


What Never Goes Away

by OverTheRainbow2



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-24 20:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverTheRainbow2/pseuds/OverTheRainbow2
Summary: Sidney and Charlotte are struggling to cope with their new realities. Can they simply bury the past? Or will they find that some things can never be laid to rest?





	1. Sidney

She’d left in August. He recalled that it had been unseasonably cold and had rained all afternoon and evening that day. It seemed appropriate. It was now some seven months and eleven days since he’d last seen her. If he was minded to, he could most likely calculate the hours. In many ways though, she’d never really left. He saw her in his minds eye every minute of every day. Sometimes she was so vivid, it was as though she stood before him. Other times, she was distant, ephemeral, a mere glimpse, a flash of warm, brown eyes, the gentle curl of her hair as it fell about her face, the softness of a smile, the sensation of her breath, of her skin, of holding her hands so tightly, of her lips touching his. The nearness of her. The realness of her. The memory of a feeling beyond description, that he would never, could never, capture again. Georgiana had once suggested that he had an ability to cauterise his heart. He didn’t. Even if he had possessed that power, he had decided to let it bleed dry. He had no use for it now. 

He hadn’t returned to Sanditon since that day. He’d rode out of town so fast and so hard that he’d exhausted himself as well as his poor stallion. London, which had so often afforded him distraction from past torment, offered little comfort to him now. Lady Denham had allowed him to vouch for his brother’s debts in anticipation of his impending nuptials. A union, one month hence, which he contemplated with all the joy of a condemned man. Eliza’s desire for a spring wedding, had bought him a short reprieve. He thought often of that parting admonition to make his intended happy. He wanted so desperately to do as she bid him, to be the man she wanted him to be but creating happiness from such foundations was a castle built on sand. There were many things the Campion money could buy. His brother’s liberty, his family’s reputation but it could never buy his heart and soul. Such as they were worth and for what was left of both, they were no longer his to sell. They belonged to another. One from whom, they would never return. What was left was a hollowed out shell. It looked to all the world intact but hold it up to the light and there was nothing there. He often wondered if Eliza knew he didn’t love her. If she perhaps suspected. She was self-absorbed but she was no fool. Sometimes he’d catch her looking at him and he felt certain his deception had been exposed. He disgusted himself. Trying to please her with flattery, insincerity and smiles which never reached his eyes. Listening to her inane conversation. Pretending to laugh where there was merely cruelty, no amusement and little wit. Acquiescing to sentiments and opinions he didn’t share. He’d come to loathe the sound of his name on her lips. That she paraded him like a trophy. That he no longer knew who he was when he was with her, only that he hated what he’d become. That he felt surrounded, yet never more alone. If he had feared growing to hate Eliza too, this was almost worse. Apathy was corrosive. He tried. So hard and so desperately that he only succeeded in displaying everything he was endeavouring to conceal. 

Babington had taken to looking at him with a permanently pained expression. Lady Babington, with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Georgiana with open fury and distain. Even Crowe, in a rare, lucid moment had asked him if all was well. Never had the word “fine” been laced with such abject misery. He couldn’t bear to hear her name spoken. He’d largely succeeded in cultivating the skill of avoiding those who might. At Christmas Tom, Mary and the Children came to London with Arthur and Diana. Eliza had found the children’s exuberance “trying” on her nerves. Little sticky hands were not made for silk dresses, nor fine china for the playfulness of a six year old. He adored his nieces and nephews. Their bright, joyous spirits were all the light that was left in his life. They’d arrived like a breath of fresh air, full of laughter and chatter, clutching little wooden dolls. He’d sat with them on the floor on Christmas morning, watching them play. Henry’s toy was a smart soldier in a bright red uniform. “...and who, pray tell, is this fine fellow?” “Prince Sidney”, came the reply. He smiled indulgently at his little nephew, “Prince Sidney?...well. Is His Royal Highness intending to vanquish the French?” Jenny, who was brushing her dolls hair like an attentive maid, replied, “No! He’s getting married, to the most beautiful princess in the whole Kingdom!” “Is he now? and just who is this fair princess who has captured the Prince’s heart?” The reply was swift, innocent and yet as devastating as any sharp weapon could ever be. “Princess Charlotte”.... and there it was. A searing pain that was at once familiar and yet as fresh as the day it began. He’d tried so hard not to allow it to surface, or to disturb his countenance but he was certain it had. All his senses seemed to shut down at once. All consciousness focusing on the intensity of anguish which grew and spread outward, until it filled every empty space inside of him. He flinched. Mary had been watching the little group indulgently. He turned to her suddenly in that moment, panicked like a drowning man, unthinking. For a second, he was completely exposed. Mary’s kind, gentle features grew knowing, apologetic and mournful as she said, “Charlotte sent them to the children as a Christmas gift, Sidney”. Eliza, who had been taking tea with Mary at the breakfast table, looked coldly, firstly at Sidney, then at the children still at play. She was swift in her reply. It was laced with an acid tone, that had become all too familiar, “The farmers daughter. Well. Isn’t she sweet”. Sidney rose from the floor, like a man twice his age, tousled his nephews hair and excused himself from the room. He walked to the library and sat among his books. Burying his head in his hands his thoughts were filled once again by the bliss of his memories, the misery of his reality and of the woman he loved so desperately, who was far from his side, never to return. His eyes lit upon Heraclitus, it called to mind a day on a river, a vision in white and the wisdom of the weeping philosopher, “How can you hide from what never goes away”.


	2. Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home. With all its joys and sorrows.

This was her favourite spot. High on the hill, overlooking her father’s estate, the rooftops of Willingden clustered in the distance. From here, all was serene, peaceful, silent, save for the sounds of nature all around her. She longed for the time when the world, from this vantage point, seemed filled with infinite possibilities which stretched as far as the eye could see and the mind could conjure. Nothing so very beautiful, so utterly perfect, could ever cause you pain. She knew now, how very wrong that was. In times gone by, she’d come here to read a book, to eat a lunch she’d hastily prepared, to mend a garment for one of her siblings, or just to lie beneath the expanse of a blue sky on a summers day. Now she came to be alone with her thoughts. She knew that solitude could be dangerous. Where once her mind was occupied with dreams of a life she’d yet to live, it had since become tortured by an unending nightmare of cruel fate and harsh reality. However, try as she might, she couldn’t resist touching the flames that still burned with a white hot intensity within her. It had been seven months now since she’d last seen his face. His every feature etched into her brain and held, cherished in her heart. She’d never thought that a man could ever be described as “beautiful” but he was. Like he was imagined by the poets, drawn by the masters, sculpted by artisans from the finest marble. Created it seemed explicitly to be her deepest joy and her greatest sorrow. If she closed her eyes, he was there. Her fingertips could trace the contours of his face, her senses could reconstruct the feel of his arms around her, of his lips against hers, of his hands holding her own, of the light that shone in his eyes, of a moment at the coves and of feelings at once frightening and unfamiliar and yet so powerful and overwhelming.

Family commitments and her various duties around the estate had offered some distraction from her ever intruding thoughts, however time had yet to offer its healing balm. She still found herself crying frequently. Sometimes she’d feel her emotions building, giving her presence of mind and precious time to make her excuses, run upstairs to the room she shared with her sister Alison, lock the door, pull open the window and sob. Expelling her sorrow out into the ether. It was a sound which seemed to emanate from her very soul. Once, she had literally prayed to God, as the tears mingled with her rain soaked face, to ease her suffering and take the pain away. Before long someone would call her name and she’d hastily wipe away her tears, compose herself and reply with such a carefree tone that no one could possibly suspect the truth. Or so she thought. Other times it simply washed over her like a wave slowly breaking on the beach. She’d be sitting on her bed and suddenly realise that tears were falling unbidden down her cheeks. She wondered if it would ever end. If she would ever reach safe harbour beyond this unending horizon of misery. 

When she’d first returned home, she’d felt that her very flesh was raw. These innocent, excited, happy, smiling faces that greeted her with kisses, embraces and demands for every tale she had to tell, could never comprehend that they only heightened her misery and drained her spirits, leaving her exhausted. She had shared small gifts with her siblings and her parents, what little trinkets she could afford. She’d placed the numerous shells she’d collected, by her bed. It was the prospect of unpacking her gowns which she found hardest of all. Each one seemed to hold a fragment of her love for him. From that first awkward dance, to the bliss of a stolen moment on a cliff top and a night which held so much hope and promise, which came to nought. She could still smell the acrid smoke on her blue gown. However, there was one item in particular which broke what was left of her fragile heart. Alison had gasped as the beautiful golden fabric emerged from the trunk. She had considered leaving it behind in Sanditon. Lord knows she’d have no need of it in Willingden but she couldn’t bring herself to part with it. It held the memory of a dream. The way he’d looked at her as she descended the stairs, his kind and gentle words, the intensity of his gaze, the feeling of being held in his arms, his smile, the realisation of such precious feelings, which though in vain, would never leave her. No. She could never part with it. Some weeks later, as Alison slept, she had removed the gown from her wardrobe and held it tightly in her arms as she slowly fell asleep. 

Alison had woken before her the following morning and found her thus. In her slumber, she was a girl in a golden dress, in a London ballroom, she was dancing with him, a dance that would never end. They were smiling and laughing as he spun her around and around until she was dizzy. Finally, his lips were close to hers as he whispered “Charlotte”. Then slowly as though surfacing from the sea, she was brought back to consciousness. Stark and cold. His voice became Alison’s, his face became hers. His loving eyes became Alison’s confused and concerned expression. “Charlotte. Please do not think me impertinent. I should never wish to pry into your private concerns but won’t you tell me, what truly happened in Sanditon? What happened with Sidney.” At the mention of his name she sat up awkwardly, “What do you mean!? Why do you ask that!? Nothing happened! Nothing at all!” Her sudden movement dislodged her gown from the bed, which slowly fell to the floor. Both sisters stared at it where it lay. Charlotte felt a crushing sense of embarrassment and utter futility. Alison was the first to speak, “I ask, because I know that you come up here, almost every day, to cry. I ask, because I know you as my own flesh and blood. The light has gone from your eyes, your smile is fixed and you never laugh as you once did. I ask, because you say his name in your sleep. I ask, because you’re my sister and I love you.” With that, Charlotte threw herself into Alison’s arms and wept openly and without shame, for the first time since she’d returned, “Oh Alison. I am wretched.” Her sister held her tightly, as the storm broke and the whole sad and sorry tale was finally told. So it was, that her burden shared with one whom she was certain would keep her confidence as if it was her own, Charlotte found herself here, once again. On a hillside. The cool breeze of early spring caressing her face, reflecting on the past and contemplating her future. As she slowly rose to return to the house, she pondered whether the breeze might just carry her thoughts to him wherever he was. It was a fanciful notion but one which comforted her nonetheless. Softly she whispered, “Though you may never think of me. Though I may never see you again, know that you are with me, always. Know that while I breathe, you are loved. May God bless and keep you safe Sidney Parker.” With that, she wrapped her shawl tightly about her and headed for home.


	3. Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible truth is revealed.

Mary recalled a seventeen year old boy. The handsomest she had ever seen, with a ready smile that lit up his features and warmed the coldest of hearts. Like his brother, he was possessed of a ferocious energy. Unlike his brother, it was tempered by a maturity and a considered air, which belied his years. When she first saw him, she had been twenty one years old and in the first flush of newly found romance. Tom Parker had swept her off her feet. He was a confusing whirlwind of contradictions and excitement and despite every rational objection, she was completely smitten. After weeks of walks in the park and seemingly endless balls, plays and assemblies, she felt certain a proposal was imminent. He had invited her to dine that evening with his parents. Two of the jolliest people she had ever met and surely the best suited in temperament. Sadly, like those halcyon days, they too were now long gone. Sidney had raced down the stairs of the Parker’s London residence with such speed that she barely glimpsed him at first. Tom had held him back, admonishing him for not acknowledging a visitor. He had turned as he reached the doorway and for a second looked shy and awkward. Then there was that smile. “Sidney, this is Miss Mary Everett. Miss Everett, this is my younger brother Sidney...who is most anxious to leave it would seem”. Bowing swiftly, he replied, “Please forgive me Miss Everett. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My brother has spoken of you often”. “All good things I hope?” “No exaggeration I assure you. For my brother, that is quite an achievement in itself.” He had a sparkle in his eyes and an air of mischief which amused her greatly. She laughed. “I trust you will be joining us for dinner this evening Miss Everett?” “Yes indeed. Your parents have very kindly extended an invitation.” “Then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you later. Please excuse me.” With that, he bowed decorously once again, acknowledged his brother and swept out into the heaving mass of humanity in the streets beyond. Seldom had she encountered one so young, whose presence was so immediately striking and whose absence, so powerfully affecting. For a second neither she nor Tom spoke, as though the room without him in it, had suddenly been starved of the very air they breathed. “He makes quite the impression does he not?” She could not disagree. 

They had talked at length during dinner and had agreed on first name terms. He had a sweetheart. Her name was Eliza. He intended to make her an offer of marriage before his eighteenth birthday at Michaelmas. He knew he had little but himself to recommend him but he had plans for the future. The America’s perhaps, or the West Indies. He asserted that he would work himself to exhaustion for her. For their family, for their future. He might not have money but he had energy. He would put it to good use. Eliza had assured him that material considerations mattered little to her in any case. She was touched by his youthful optimism, his enthusiasm and his sheer exuberance and was warmed by his obvious joy. She feared that such a restless but tender spirit could so easily be crushed by the cruelties of the world. She wished him every happiness, with a depth of sincerity which belied their short acquaintance. She saw him infrequently after that and then, suddenly, not at all. 

Little was said by his parents but Tom spoke of his brother’s “disappointed hopes” and before long, of his growing concern for his well-being. There was some talk about town of an ugly scene at a ball. Of drinking, of Opium....of other distractions. She saw him once, late in the afternoon, as she returned from purchasing items for her trousseau. He was leaving an inn, aided by the brute force of a man twice his size. He had landed unceremoniously in a puddle and was struggling to stand upright. This beautiful boy, muddied, dishevelled, uncomprehending. She approached him tentatively. For a moment he struggled to focus and she feared he no longer recognised her. Then, like the sun emerging from behind a dark cloud. His glorious smile lit upon her once more. “Mary!” “Oh Sidney. Whatever has happened to you? Please. Come with me. I have a carriage waiting. We’ll take you to Bedford Place. All will be well.” She took his arm and led him away. They stumbled a little, attracting the disapproving glances and opprobrium of onlookers but eventually, with the assistance of the coachman, he was placed inside the carriage. He sat there for a moment, unfocused and confused. His voice slurred as he mournfully lamented, “She didn’t love me Mary. She didn’t love me. I was never enough for her. She wants money Mary. Money. She will sell her love. Could you do that Mary? Could you sell your heart and soul to the highest bidder?” “Sidney. I’m so very sorry.” “Why did she make me believe...?” “These things are seldom simple. Perhaps her circumstances, or those of her family have changed. I am sure you were not deceived of her character. She could not be so cruel to one who held such tender feelings”. “It is over for me Mary”. “No! It is not. It has barely even begun. You mustn’t torture yourself so. We are all so very concerned for you. You are very much loved by us all. I am certain she will regret you for the rest of her life. But Sidney please remember, you are young. You have a life ahead. You must chase it. There is a heart in this world that will love you so very dearly. I am certain of it. Your task is to find it. Put your energies to that mission”. “I will never let myself love again. It is futile. I am unworthy of love”. “You are no such thing and you will love again, a deeper and a finer love.” He was crying now. Thick tears which fell slowly down his cheeks. She handed him her handkerchief, which he took as though she’d handed him the world. “Tom is a fortunate man Mary”. Within minutes he’d fallen asleep. Within weeks he was gone. To Antigua. He’d written often and she’d eagerly replied. News of Tom, of the children of a new and exciting project, Sanditon. She’d grown to love him as though he were her own flesh and blood. That feeling had never wavered but had grown and deepened over the years. She so desperately wanted him to find his place in the world and a love that was worthy of such a fine and true heart. For a brief moment, she thought he finally had.

She had suspected their mutual regard for some time. At first it was a look. A moment when he spoke of the serendipity of happening upon her while visiting his ward. The heated, stolen glances they exchanged when they thought no one was watching. How often she spoke of him in casual asides and he of her. She was such a glorious spirit, warm, gentle and kind, full of passion and an infectious zest for life. As lovely a creature as she’d ever beheld. She was perfect for him. She had been certain he would propose at the Midsummer Ball. Her heart soared at the very thought of it. Such a dear sister she would be, such a perfect companion on his journey. A loving wife and mother to his children and then, just as hope began, it was gone. The fire, Tom’s reckless choices and then Eliza and her money, once again. She had been painfully disconcerted by events but had tried so very hard to like her. To disregard the persistent sense that this was so very wrong. To feel the warmth of sisterly affection for this cool, detached, arrogant creature but she could not. She had never been one to dwell in the past and if Sidney could forgive then so could she but every fibre of her being feared the truth. That this was a loveless union of convenience. That a Devil’s Bargain had been made, one in which they would all partake and the cost would be incalculable. Watching him play with the children on Christmas morning had brought it all into sharp relief. How he’d winced at the sound of Charlotte’s name. How he’d spent much of the afternoon alone in his library while Eliza had bemoaned his neglect and complained of his “dull spirits”. Not dull, she was certain, but broken. She felt like a jailer, like a conspirator to his torment. 

That feeling would never leave her. Some weeks later they were once again in London. A Mrs Maudesley, a prominent figure in the Beau Monde was hosting a pre-wedding celebration for the less than happy couple. Her residence was spectacular and the ball every bit as grand as it promised to be. Eliza was in her element, holding court among her society friends. Gossiping and sniping at the assembled throng. Sidney was in hell. For some reason she didn’t understand, he could barely look at the ballroom. A young woman with dark hair and a dress accented with gold fabric walked past him and he almost leapt from his skin. Lord Babington was prompted to ask, “Is everything alright old friend?” “Fine”, came the monosyllabic reply. “Perhaps you should take your intended for a spin around the dance floor. Enliven your spirits.” “I’m not inclined to dance”. “Sidney...” “Not now Babbers. I need a drink”. He seemed to need one more often than not lately. With that he was gone. Eliza simmered with fury as time passed and he failed to return. Tom had been busy trying desperately to promote Sanditon. It was only later as she and her husband finished dancing a minuet, that a careless recollection, a casual aside finally allowed the puzzle pieces to fit together in her mind. He told her of another ball in this same place. One attended by Charlotte during her stay in London. “Did they dance together?” “Who?” “Charlotte and Sidney?” “Oh Yes. Actually, they made a most attractive pair that evening. Sidney had arranged for the purchase of a gown for Charlotte. As I recall, it was gold. It complimented her most splendidly. You would have heartily approved my dear. Do you know, it was the first time in years I’d seen my brother smile like he did in his youth. Then again, that was the night he was reunited with Eliza. Revivified he was Mary. Positively revivified.” While Tom smiled at the memory, Mary’s expression fell. Suddenly it all made sense. The whole, awful truth and its unending consequences were laid bare before her.

Later that evening she heard Tom berating him in the study. Eliza had returned to her residence in a foul mood. He accused Sidney of disregarding the family’s interests, of never visiting Sanditon, of neglecting him and the project, of not understanding the sacrifice he made. Mary had watched from the doorway throughout. Sidney’s back was to Tom. She could see him gripping the mantle of the fireplace ever tighter, as the barrage continued. She could feel the pressure building. Suddenly she made her presence felt in the hope of averting disaster. “Tom”. Perhaps this would be enough to make him stop but it was too late. Sidney suddenly cried out, “Enough!” He slammed his fist on the mantel so hard the ornaments shook precariously. It silenced Tom immediately. Sidney’s voice was quiet but deathly cold, as he slowly turned his head to face his brother, “Your sacrifice?....You have the audacity to speak to me of sacrifice?...You have no idea what I gave up for you. What I’ve broken beyond repair. What I must endure every single day of my God forsaken life!” His voice rose. “I have lost everything. Everything for you, for this family, for Sanditon. I have lost my integrity, my honour, my dignity, my soul. I have given my life to you. I have destroyed my future. My dreams. My happiness....My Charlotte. My precious love!” On those final words his voice broke and he turned away, covering his face. Mary’s eyes filled with tears. Tom stood, stunned and confused looking at his brother’s stooped, defeated frame. Mary approached him slowly, as she had once done on a London street, all those years before. Tenderly she reached for him. “Oh my dear Sidney. What have we done to you?”


	4. Babington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate the power of friendship.

George, Fredrick, James, Augustus, the 12th Lord Babington, never thought himself a hero. His younger brother was the military man of the family. All braggadocio, puff and swagger. He, on the other hand, was content to manage his estates, indulge his new wife, enjoy the occasional country pursuit and the lively society of good friends. Not necessarily in that order. Strangely however, fate was about to ensure that his legacy would be altogether finer. 

He first met Sidney Parker at the age of sixteen. While he had always flattered himself that he was a dashed handsome cove and aspiring lothario, Sidney had something of a tendency to eclipse him in that regard. His ability to disconcert women, young and old, even at such a tender age, was quite something to behold. In his more idle moments he had practiced adopting some of his mannerisms. His walk, his tone of voice, the intensity of his gaze. Somehow, it didn’t have quite the same effect. In a less generous soul, this might have led to jealousy but “Babbers” as he was know to his friends, was generosity personified. He could also decently claim to have among the finest manicured muttonchops in London. An achievement not to be sniffed at. It further helped his equanimity that Sidney was as fine a fellow as he’d ever met. Loyal to a fault and thoroughly excellent company. He had watched with some pleasure as his dear friend had fallen deeply in love. Eliza was beautiful and the two seemed devoted to one another. Babington had been desperately sad for him when his greatest hope had been so cruelly dashed. He understood that in this world, the demands of the pocket book often outweighed that of the heart but it never made the consequences any less painful. 

Sidney had rapidly descended into darkness in the weeks and months that followed. He remembered watching with increasing concern, as his risk taking became ever more flagrant. Often he’d disappear for days at a time, to the despair of all those who cared for him. He felt certain that any day, he would learn that the very worst had happened, to the very best of men. He had tried with every ounce of strength he possessed to get him to draw back from the brink but the abyss, it seemed, was claiming him and misery held him tightly in its merciless grip. Thankfully, just as all hope seemed lost, his brother Tom had intervened and Sidney left his unhappiness behind for a chance to rebuild his fortunes on far off shores. They had stayed in touch throughout his time abroad, as both of them had grown into manhood. Babington had been port-side to welcome his friend back from Antigua. If he had expected a fragile figure, plagued with the ravages of months at sea, what greeted him instead, was arguably an even more commanding fellow than before and certainly one who had grown to fill his six foot frame. 

The man who returned however, while physically well and financially prosperous, was fundamentally changed. He seldom smiled and when he did, it was brief and without the lively countenance and generosity of spirit which had once characterised him. He was now cynical and his wit often caustic. He was quick to temper, which could emerge with little provocation and with a frightening ferocity. He drank frequently and to excess. Perhaps less than in the months before he left, but still much more than was prudent. Babington strongly suspected that it was less for pleasure, than for the prospect of temporary oblivion. He was aided in his dissolution by their mutual friend Crowe. An unrepentant reprobate. More amusing company than he had any right to be, but a reprobate nonetheless. He found it most disconcerting to look upon a man he knew so well and yet to comprehend that he no longer really knew him at all. Sidney Parker had left but he was unsure that he had ever, fully returned. 

Babington had heard of the Sanditon project both from Tom and from Sidney. He confessed that the thought of investing time let alone money in the prospects of a former fishing village on the south coast, interested him little. He enjoyed country life but in moderation and coastal life, rarely. He perceived these places as little more than a fad, a passing folly, more suited to eccentrics and hypochondriacs than a young man about town in need of society and entertainment. Still, he knew Sidney was doing his duty to his brother in investing in his elaborate plans for the place and when he extended an invitation to spend a few days there with him and Crowe, the notion was not entirely objectionable. From the perspective of his personal happiness, it turned out to be a most fortuitous decision. 

Esther Denham was the loveliest creature he had ever beheld. She was fierce, ice cold, with a taciturn disposition and an aloof manner, tending to cruelty. She was also entirely fascinating and he was captivated by her. She was like no woman he had ever met and from their earliest acquaintance he was powerless to resist her and completely convinced that this enigma would, one day, be his wife. Neither Sidney nor Crowe shared his optimism but faint heart never won fair maiden and George Babington could never be described as faint of heart. It was during this time in Sanditon, that he also noted a marked change in Sidney Parker. Initially, it was more of an unconscious observation than anything precise. His dear old friend had finally begun to display some of the characteristics he remembered from his youth. For too long, little appeared to interest Sidney. He bored easily with people and places. He was restless, agitated. However, there now appeared to be someone, who for good or ill, intrigued him. Charlotte Heywood was as pretty as a picture, quite captivating in fact, with sparkling eyes and the most beautiful smile. A farmers daughter from a small village he understood. What she lacked in the elegant and superficial trappings of high society, she more than made up for with an abundance of much finer qualities. She had extraordinary energy, intelligence, wit and spirit. She was lively and engaging with the courage to assert her convictions. He knew his friend well enough to suspect his partiality and to comprehend, that while she challenged and frequently disconcerted him, it was far from entirely unwelcome. She had also begun to ignited a spark within him which had long been dormant. He’d catch him observing her when he thought no one was looking and his attention could always be assured by the mere mention of her name. 

As the months passed and they were thrown together with increasing frequency, what began as a spark, grew to a flame and from a flame to a raging inferno. It became evident that Sidney Parker had fallen passionately in love with Charlotte Heywood. To watch them dance together was to feel a sense that you should look away from such intimacy. That it was inappropriate to observe and yet impossible to demure. His smile had returned, arguably, even brighter than before. His temper was calmed. His manners greatly improved. His interest in Sanditon appeared to grow by the day. In all these things, the common thread, was Charlotte. As his own romantic fortunes ebbed and flowed, Babington felt increasingly certain that it would not be long before Sidney declared himself to her. He had feared that the sudden reemergence of Eliza Campion, widowed and predatory, might thwart their progress towards a happy event but while pleasant and solicitous, his friend appeared largely immune on this occasion, to the questionable charms of the inconstant woman who had so defined him these ten years. 

Then everything changed. On the night of the Midsummer Ball, Babington determined to offer himself to Esther Denham once again. With a heart even more her own than when she broke it some weeks before. Events at the recent Regatta had focused his thoughts and he’d been truly repulsed and appalled by the callous Sir Edward’s treatment of his step sister. It left him with a tremendous sense of unease and an altruistic desire to provide the hand of friendship and refuge to this wounded soul, even if his more tender feelings might never be reciprocated. He also suspected that his old friend Sidney was equally compelled to make a proposal of marriage to Charlotte. She was radiant that night. Glowing with the happiness that only the pleasure and delight of newly found love could bring. He had offered his friend encouragement, which he appeared to receive well. It was surely only a matter of time. Indeed had he been more of a betting man, like Crowe, he would have placed his not insubstantial annual income on Sidney being the man to emerge from the Sanditon Assembly Rooms that night, as a happily betrothed man. Instead, to his utter astonishment, it was to be him who was to secure his love. Instead, Sidney found himself extinguishing flames of a very different kind and partaking in his brother’s misfortune and the latest calamity of his increasingly misbegotten scheme. 

The weeks following his betrothal had been a whirlwind of anticipation and planning. To his eternal sense of shame, he had not realised that in that short time, Sidney’s circumstances had changed beyond recognition. When he received a correspondence from him announcing he had engaged himself to Mrs Eliza Campion, he’d been shocked to his very core. Surely not? It couldn’t be? What of Miss Heywood? He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood what passed between them. Perhaps she had refused him that night. None of these events made any sense to him. However, he was reluctant to pry lest it cause pain to either party. Charlotte was to be Esther’s maid of honour, Sidney his best man. Awkwardness now seemed inevitable. In the event and to their infinite credit, both of them comported themselves with politeness throughout. Admittedly though, the disposition of both was distant and strained. When he next saw him not long after his return from their honeymoon tour, it was in London and Sidney was by Mrs Campion’s side once again. His impression however, was less that of two loving companions on the threshold of a life together and more that of a mistress trailing her lapdog. He held her drink, he smiled without humour, he danced with her occasionally but never looked her in the eyes. He drank more than he should. The distance between them was a chasm. He seemed miles away as his betrothed held court. This was once again, the bored, listless, disengaged Sidney of recent memory. Babington could not have been sadder to witness it, nor more convinced that his friend was concealing some considerable distress. That Miss Heywood was a factor if not the principle cause, was to his mind, beyond dispute.

It was early spring when Lord and Lady Babington returned to Sanditon. They brought news of their anticipation of a happy event to share with Lady Denham. Babington knew that Esther had written to Charlotte but decided against sharing this fact with anyone likely to convey it to Sidney. It was their second day in town when they received an unexpected visitor, Mary Parker. At first he had assumed she had come to visit Esther but it was his counsel she was seeking. It was about Sidney. His wedding was less than a month away and Mrs Parker was deeply concerned that the brother in law she loved was on the verge of making a most dreadful mistake. She became visibly distressed as she spoke and he felt it best to summon his wife. Esther was not exactly the most sympathetic of creature but she would certainly be more capable of dealing with a woman’s tears than he. Over tea and assurances of the utmost discretion, Mary Parker unburdened herself and in doing so revealed a terrible truth. His dearest friend was indeed trapped in a seemingly impossible, nightmarish circumstance. He had truly loved Charlotte as he suspected. What’s more, he still did. This whole charade was for money. Not for himself but to salvage his monomaniacal, feckless brother and his poor family. Lady Denham had declared she would see Tom Parker in debtors prison. He now knew her well enough to comprehend this was no idle threat. £80,000. The cost of Sidney Parker’s heart and soul. His future, his happiness, was to be sold at the alter, for the princely sum of £80,000. It could not be. It would not be. It was a mountain to climb for sure but he would find a way. He would ride to London first thing in the morning. There, he would consult with Crowe. This matter required tact, skill and diplomacy...none of which Crowe possessed but he was the son and heir of a prominent financier and sober, he was a damned clever fellow. To achieve this state of sobriety would require an exceptionally early arrival at his residence however. Mary had also made him aware that Charlotte had become friendly with Lady Susan Worcester. If all else failed, her sway with the beau monde might yield something. Mary assured him of every help and assistance they could provide. Arthur also had funds and was most anxious to put his shoulder to the wheel. Sidney she assured him, knew nothing of this conversation, indeed he would be mortified by it. Babington requested that it remain confidential. They might just be able to achieve a solution but it was still purely speculative and to raise his hopes in vain would be intolerable. Even if they could, his honour might bind him to his pledge. Still, it had to be done. Sidney Parker must be saved. Then in his freedom, he could choose his path. Babington prayed he could offer his friend that choice and that Sidney would use it wisely.


	5. Georgiana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is forgiveness in the truth.

London had once held all her most tender hopes and dreams. She hated the place now. Hate was a feeling she had grown all too familiar with, since she had been deprived of love. She sat in her room in Bedford Place. A small, fragile bird in a guilded cage. She spent most of her time there alone, save for the housekeeper, cook, butler, footmen and maid, who all danced attendance on her while her wretched guardian was present but who looked upon her with utter contempt during his frequent absences. Her life had become one of loneliness and isolation. Her fortune was a poisoned chalice from which she had already imbibed deeply. 

She missed Charlotte so very much. They wrote often. Her family was embracing her and the memory of the pain which her time in Sanditon had brought, was slowly easing with their loving care. Willingden sounded like a pleasant place. If nothing else, it was filled with the warmth of affection. She wondered what that must be like. Georgiana was not prone to regret but with the benefit of hindsight, she reflected that she had at times, ill-used her friend in her ardent pursuit of the man she loved. Lovers, she reflected, had a tendency to be careless, to break things. For all the world she would not have wished to be the cause of unhappiness to her. Along with the persistent, over-exuberant, yet oddly endearing Arthur Parker, Charlotte had shown her the only real kindness she had received since being dragged to this cold, unwelcoming, God forsaken island. She knew back then that her new friend had yet to know of feelings so powerful, so overwhelming, so intoxicating, that they could inspire a person to every good and to every disgrace. Georgiana would have torn the world apart for Otis Molyneux. She very nearly did. It pained her most acutely to know that Charlotte now understood all too well, the agonies of love and that Sidney Parker had been the source of her sorrow. That this miserable, domineering, angry man could ever have been a cause of joy, was something she could not comprehend. If she had detested him before these most recent events, she loathed him with every fibre of her being now. She knew that he fully comprehended her feelings. They now spent even less time in each other’s company than they had before. The ghastly Mrs Campion occupied much of his time. She suited him well. She was a vain, waspish creature. Manipulative and utterly superficial. Perpetual solitude afforded one time to observe, to sketch the characters of those who passed by, as though in a tableau. It seemed to her that Mrs Campion was very much like a Magpie. Collecting bright, shiny objects not to love, not to cherish but to possess. Sidney was her latest acquisition. Little did she know that hers was a pyrrhic victory. Whatever he felt it wasn’t love. It never would be. Just like Georgiana, her money was her power. It also rendered everything corrupted, toxic, hollow and repulsive. It had the same effect on those who possessed it, as those who pursued it. He had proved himself to be just like all the rest. He thought Otis to have dishonourable intentions?! Where is your precious honour now Sidney Parker?

She hadn’t slept well since her abduction. She had nightmares and often found herself walking the floor in the early hours of the morning. No one asked why she remained in her room past noon, or seldom ventured beyond the confines of the house. For that, they would have had to care. She understood that she might not be long for the Parker Residence in any case. He was soon to be married and once again her destiny would be in the hands of others. This time, the future Mrs Sidney Parker. She knew that the widow Campion wanted nothing to do with her. She’d heard them arguing about it only two days before. He wanted Georgiana to come and live at their new London residence. She was appalled by the idea. A Governess was mentioned, a “Grand Tour” a “Finishing School” abroad. Every excuse was made by her as to why they must start their married life alone, unencumbered by this stranger in their midst, this surly “exotic”, young woman who represented the past and it’s long shadows. He was unmoved and spoke instead of long standing duty and obligation. There it was, as ever. Her future being negotiated by those who knew nothing of her wishes and cared even less. She would be better off in Sanditon. In Mrs Griffith’s wretched hovel with the tedious, vapid Beaufort sisters. At least Arthur would be nearby. Sidney Parker and his “obligation”. Sometimes she cursed her father for his unfathomable decision to leave her with this vile man. How could such a kind, loving soul have seen any discernible merit in him?

So it was, that tonight, she was awake once more. She had heard a loud noise and raised voices emanating from downstairs. That buffoon Tom Parker and his wife Mary were in town. Doubtless he was shaking his brother’s pockets yet again in pursuit of sovereigns. After a time the noises ceased. She waited for an opportunity to go downstairs, to sit as she often did, by the dying embers of the fire. As she entered the study, she was startled to see him there. He was hunched over in a chair, his head in his hands. She had never seen him like this. It perplexed her. His anger and frustration she knew well but this was something new. For a moment she watched him before he sensed a presence and raised his head towards the door. He looked wretched. His face was pale, even in the candle light and is eyes red. His cheeks were wet. He’d been crying. The idea seemed bizarre. Sidney Parker could cry!? Sidney Parker was capable of sentiment, of feeling!? The very notion seemed impossible. 

He momentarily seemed embarrassed to be found thus. He quickly composed himself. The tone and camber of his voice however, betrayed him. It broke as he said, “Georgiana. What brings you down here at this hour?” “I couldn’t sleep.” “I trust we didn’t disturb you?” She lied easily, “No”. “Can I fetch you something to drink?” “That’s always your solution isn’t it?” Her words clearly cut him. “I wasn’t referring to alcohol. I thought you might like some cocoa or some warm milk”. She softened a little at his solicitousness but not enough for civility, “I want nothing from you. I’m fine”. “You should have joined us this evening at Mrs Maudesley’s”. “Should I?” “Yes. Of course. You are not often enough in society.” “I care not for society Mr Parker and “society” cares even less for me”. “Georgiana...” “What!? Am I deceived? Do they seek or welcome my presence? Or should they merely like to meet with my money. I’m certain they find that most engaging and entertaining”. “You are not defined by your money. That is not your only worth in this life.” She laughed at his suggestion, “Am I not!? What, pray tell, is worth more to you and your kind?” “There are many things of much greater value”. “Really? You are truly an appalling hypocrite. You feign concern for my wellbeing but you don’t feel it. I think you incapable of feeling. To you, I am nothing more than a burden. One you never sought and you do not want. You want me out of your sight. You want your freedom from me. What you don’t realise is that you are every bit as much of a slave as my mother was. You are bought and paid for. What was your price? How much did she buy you for Sidney Parker? What is your worth in this life?” Every word struck him like a blow to his chest and she knew it, “You talk of honour but you have none. You are a selfish, unfeeling creature. You are poison. You destroy everything that comes near you. You cause pain and suffering, misery and torment. You deserve what you have and what you have is nothing. My father should never have shackled me to you. He should have left you to die!”

There was complete silence. She had long thought of saying these things to him, these terrible awful things and now she had. Suddenly, for the first time, she felt sorry for him. Sidney raised a hand to cover his mouth. She observed that it was trembling. Slowly he looked up at her. She thought she’d be greeted with anger but whatever this was, it was not that. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “I must have hurt you a very great deal for you to say those things to me Georgiana. I am sorry for it. Truly. You are right. I have no honour left. I have become everything I once despised. I am indeed enslaved. I am indeed a source of misery to myself and now, to one whom I held so dear. I know you think I didn’t love Charlotte. That I was never sincere, that I am incapable of those finer feelings. At one time, I would have agreed with you. I had indeed killed my love but now I find my love is killing me. You may not believe me and that is your prerogative but know this. I have never loved anyone, or anything, as I have loved Charlotte Heywood. The thought that I have caused her pain, destroys me, every second of every minute of every day. You may wish my death upon me but know that the deed is already done. I am dying inside Georgiana. I faced a terrible choice. I love my family and they have sacrificed for me in the past. My brother made a mistake, much as Otis did. His situation was impossible. His destiny was imprisonment and disgrace and my beloved sister in law and my dear, innocent nieces and nephews would have partaken in it. I could not see them suffer so.”

Georgiana replied, “There were other ways”. “There were no other ways. I abased myself before every banker in London. I could not involve my friends in this.” “What about me? What about my money? Everyone else thinks of it constantly. Why didn’t you?” “You think I could take your money!? That I would ask you to sacrifice your future. I could never take it! I don’t want your money. That money is your freedom. My every action has been to protect it. To protect you.” “Protect me from what? From men like you? From men who would marry me for mercenary reasons?” He felt her words like a dagger in his heart. “My father did not save your sorry life for this.” “You’re right. He didn’t. He would be ashamed of what I’ve done, of what I’m going. I am ashamed of it. I am sickened to my very soul. I thought...I don’t know what I thought. I suppose I’ve grown so used to being in pain that I thought nothing of suffering more. I didn’t stop to consider that this time, it would not be my own to endure. I would be inflicting it upon another. That I would do to her beautiful soul and her warm, kind, loving heart, exactly what was once done to me.” At that he stood and swiftly turned from her. She knew he was crying again and didn’t want her to see it. She observed him for a moment. This was a very different man to the one she thought she knew. This was a glimpse of the Sidney Parker her friend had grown to love. It was a startling revelation. “Do you still love Charlotte?” The question hung heavy in the air for what felt like forever. “I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. She is in my blood. I will love her until my last breath.” “You cannot marry that woman”. “Have I not made myself clear!? I have no choice.” “I cannot believe that is true.” He gave a wry laugh, “That does not surprise me. You believe nothing I say.” “I believe you love Charlotte. I didn’t before but I do now. I invite you to remember what she herself once said, “Without equality of affection, marriage can become a form of slavery”. Do not condemn yourself to that fate. Do not condemn Mrs Campion to become your jailer. I detest her but I would not wish that fate upon her.” “You wished my death upon me.” “I know...I spoke in anger not sincerity and I am sorry for it. Forgive me.” “I think it is high time we forgave each other Georgiana. Perhaps we can start now.” “Perhaps. Be the man my father saved Sidney. Be the man he entrusted his daughter to. Be the best part of yourself. If for no other reason than the knowledge that the very best of hearts holds you dear. Goodnight.” “Goodnight Georgiana.” She returned to her room and slept soundly, for the first time in months.


	6. Lady Susan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alliance of friends.

Lady Susan Worcester had always been a hopeless romantic. She firmly believed that love would always find a way, so that when it struggled and Cupid’s aim had proven less than true, she’d been known to eagerly help it to locate it’s intended target. She attributed her convictions to observation and experience. Her own marriage had been an exceptionally happy one. Alexander, the 15th Lord Worcester had been the most eligible bachelor of the season when she was presented at Court and made her society debut, at the age of seventeen. He was handsome, titled, propertied and possessed of a lively countenance. Needless to say, he was rapidly surrounded by every debutante in the country. Lady Susan had always been beautiful, exceptionally so, but beauty was as nothing to the dowry offered by her numerous rivals. However, it took but two dances and a brief conversation to convince her that Alexander was the man of her fate. She later learned, that for him, it had taken but one look. His devotion never wavered and their mutual joy stood in such stark contrast to the many in their circle whose unions were little more than business transactions. It pained her that they were never blessed with children. Perhaps it may have happened with time but sadly, time was not something which they were to receive in abundance. A mere five years later her husband suffered a fall from his stallion while riding at their country estate. Three days later, he was gone. She had carried the pain of his loss in her heart every day since but the memory of the love she shared with him was both her comfort and her inspiration. She could think of no greater misery than a life without love, or a greater agony than a love denied.

So it was, that she was deeply distressed to learn that Sidney Parker was to marry Mrs Eliza Campion. When Charlotte wrote to inform her that she had left Sanditon, she had said nothing of Sidney, or of her disappointed hopes. She had simply stated that her summer adventures had concluded and her parents had written to beg her return to Willingden. However, Susan had feared the worst. At this final confirmation of her suspicions, she had written to Charlotte immediately. She was distressed to consider that she might somehow have exacerbated the situation by urging Charlotte to follow her heart. The thought of being the cause of pain to her dear friend, wounded her deeply. Characteristically, Charlotte had responded to thank her for her kind consideration and to assure her that she felt no resentment towards her. Time, she was certain, would heal her wound. Such was her generosity of spirit, that she urged Susan not to think badly of Sidney. That while she felt it was not her place to discuss his motives, she believed them to be sincere and altruistic. She wished him a lifetime of happiness. It was a wish born of a generous, tender but naive heart. If Sidney’s motives for marrying Mrs Campion were not resultant from a deep affection, then no true happiness would ever attend them.

However, Susan admired Charlotte’s forgiveness and forbearance. She had grown deeply fond of this exceptional young woman. She was possessed of such a lively spirit and an open, unguarded manner, that it was impossible not to be drawn to her and to hope that, somehow, her every wish in this life would, one day, come true. It was so obvious that she had been deeply in love with Sidney Parker. Further, it took little observation or understanding to realise that the feeling was entirely mutual. He was distinctly handsome, with a powerful presence, charisma, energy and vitality. Together, they were captivating. While in her innocence, Charlotte may not have understood the full extent of the impulses flowing within her, there could be little doubt that this was a young couple who would love with a passion and enjoy each other greatly. That this should be thwarted by such an anaemic creature as Eliza Campion, was a tragedy. That Sidney Parker would choose money over love, may have been a sadly common, predictable failing of a man of his class, but to Susan, it felt uncharacteristic. Something was strangely out of place. She could not imagine Charlotte giving her heart to one so unworthy. There had to be a reason for this sudden reversal of fortune. It was to be a rainy Tuesday morning in April, when she was finally to discover it. 

That Lord Babington had kept Crowe reasonably sober until 11.30am, was in itself, a truly remarkable achievement. In vague sobriety, Crowe was a not unintelligent man. A perpetual source of disappointment to his wealthy father and disinterest to his unhappy mother, he nonetheless possessed a much greater understanding of finance and investments, than his dissolute and disengaged exterior might suggest. Crowe’s greatest enemy had always been boredom and sadly much of the world around him, bored him to tears. Without motivation and direction, his mind sought other avenues of release. It usually didn’t end well. However, in the rare moments in which his curiosity and motivation came together as one, he could be galvanised into action in a manner that could be quite astonishing. The fate of Sidney Parker was one such motivating factor. Crowe had always liked him. Where others grew tired of a man they saw as little more than a tedious, embarrassing drunk, Sidney would not abandon him. Now he would not abandon Sidney. So, here he stood, alongside Babington, as his friend knocked on the imposing door of 10 Grosvenor Square, Mayfair to be greated by a stern, liveried footman. His initial reluctance to allow the two men to enter the premises, was alleviated to some extent when Babington invoked his peerage. It had its uses. They were promptly escorted to the drawing room to await the mistress of the house.

Lady Susan was mildly befuddled to find these two somewhat sheepish creatures habituating themselves in her drawing room. Lord Babington was admiring the Vermeer, Crowe the drinks cabinet. Babington bowed decorously, apologised for the intrusion and introduced Crowe, who attempted to bow but on finding that last night’s brandy had an ill effect on his equilibrium, settled merely for a nod. They had come to discuss a delicate matter concerning Mr Sidney Parker, Miss Charlotte Heywood and the happiness of both. With those words, her attention was assured. She offered them tea, which Crowe accepted with the enthusiasm of arsenic. She then listened attentively to a narrative, which both served to reassure her of the virtues of Sidney and appall her at the horrendous calamity which had befallen the young lovers. 

She was animated as she declared that something must be done to prevent a terrible injustice and a cruel fate. Babington was visibly relieved by the vehemency of her reaction. In truth, despite Mary Parker’s assurances of Lady Susan’s regard for Miss Heywood, he feared being given short shrift. He and Crowe had discussed the matter at length, he assured her. £80,000 was needed. Lady Susan drew in a breath at the substantial amount but quickly composed herself before telling him to go on. Babington explained that in light of his friendship and familial attachment to Sanditon and the Denham family, he would invest £10,000, with a further £5,000 on completion of the terrace rebuild. The £5,000 was to be used for the cultivation of extensive parks, botanical and oriental gardens, to be named after his wife and late mother. Should his wife be safely delivered of a daughter, her name too would be included. Lady Susan smiled.

Crowe had used his connections to interest three substantial investors, not averse to risk. They were keen to construct a concert hall with outdoor music facilities. They had undertaken a similar, successful venture in Brighton. Each investor was willing to put in for £5,000. Crowe himself would vouch for a further five. Arthur Parker would invest his inheritance of £10,000 and, after consulting with Tom and calling in every favour he possessed with his bank, they were prepared to take a lien against Bedford Place and Trafalgar House for a total of £15,000. They’d raised £60,000 but had now exhausted their options. They needed help. Before Babington could apologise any further for importuning her on such a sensitive subject, Susan replied, “It will be done. It must be done. I will invest £10,000 and I believe I may locate an equal sum from a particular friend. It may take a day or two. I will send an express when it has been arranged.” Both men were stunned. “I have but one stipulation however. In light of your narrative and the evidence of recent events, I am deeply concerned that Mr Tom Parker may not be the best steward of my investment, nor that of my esteemed friend and I should never wish to steer him ill. The future of Sanditon must be placed in the hands of those most capable of securing stability and a profitable return.” Babington and Crowe agreed and assured her that the matter was in hand. “There is another issue of course. Your friend Mr Parker has engaged himself to this woman. It would be dishonourable of him to recant. Irrespective of his feelings he may be reluctant to do so.” Babington replied, “It is a matter I have considered ma’am. I believe you are right and I know Sidney well enough to comprehend that your fears are not unfounded.” Crowe suddenly spoke, “Can she be worked on? Is there any possibility that she might give him up? It’s not as though she hasn’t done it before.” Babington cast him a look at such bluntness. Lady Susan was less perturbed. She considered this for a moment. “Quite so Mr Crowe. Leave it with me gentlemen. Ensure my butler has your address. Expect an express within 48 hours.” She stood and the two men promptly did so too. “This matter will be satisfactorily resolved. I will bid you both good day.” They hastily responded, “Good day ma’am” and headed off into the spring rain. Lady Susan stood by the window watching them leave. She considered that Sidney Parker must be a man of some worth to have commanded such devotion from his friends. The thought pleased her. Her conviction that he was to be Charlotte’s destiny and hers alone, had never been more certain. She had found a chink in Mrs Campion’s armour once before. Her mission now, was to find another.


	7. Mrs Campion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Value is in the worth. Not the number.” - Aesop

She congratulated herself that she had played the game well and thus secured her victory. Her father had always told her that she was a remarkably “clever girl”. Surely there could be no doubting it now. She had secured the man she wanted and the money she craved. Yes, she’d had to sacrifice ten years to a man who repulsed her but as she sat in her Belgravia townhouse, making her final choices for her trousseau, she concluded that some deprivations could be endured. Besides, she had not exactly been without “amusement” during that time. Although, perhaps the least said about that particular episode, the better. 

The ostentation of her wedding preparations delighted her. The silk, the lace, the food, the wine, all of it, was the very finest that money could buy. It would be the society wedding of the season. There could be little doubt now that she had well and truly arrived and she would sweep all before her. It was surely only a matter of time before she was received at Court and the summit of her relentless climb, would finally be achieved. This was her destiny. 

If he thought she had any intention of compromising her plans, or leaving this place behind for his ridiculous brother’s pathetic sandpit, he could think again. She’d never liked Tom Parker, with his schemes and his bombast and his mousey little wife. As for Arthur and Diana? They were a farce. The less said about his miserable ward, the dubious offspring of a slave, the better. What an embarrassment to afford oneself such dreadful connections. No matter. For they would soon be an irrelevance. They were merely the price she paid for him and he too would be moulded to fit her purpose. He always could be.

From the moment she first saw him, she thought he was the most magnificent creature she had ever beheld. She liked perfection in all things and Sidney Parker was absolute perfection. If, in his youth, he had been somewhat over exuberant, with questionable taste in friends and a tendency to smile too much, she could forgive it for his abject devotion to her. At seventeen, he reminded her of an over eager puppy. She had first agreed to marry him, when she was a mere sixteen years old. Although strangely, she never really felt that she would. She’d said yes more in curiosity than intent. He was all passion and sweet words. To the extent that she could love, she believed that, in his case, she did. He made endless promises of devotion and future success. She’d told him that material concerns did not matter to her. Such meaningless, childish nonsense. Even then she knew it was a lie. Sometimes she marvelled at her ability to do so without conscience. Her insincere sentiments fed her power over him. He craved them. Before long, she utterly possessed him. She liked how that felt.

It was at a luncheon party to which Sidney was not invited, that she had met Charles Campion with his £15,000 a year, palatial London residence and very pretty property in Hampshire. Yes he was grey, in more ways than one but while Sidney might one day show her the world, he could offer it to her on a gilded platter, bought and paid for. That was a prospect she couldn’t resist. She had concluded that Sidney Parker would “overcome his youthful passion” and in time, find himself a nice little wife. One who could settle for the limited income of a second son. If some had considered her capriciousness cruelty, she concluded that it had proven far from disadvantageous for him. After all, he’d gone to Antigua. He’d made a fortune. She’d motivated him really. He should thank her for it. Now, here they were, once again on the verge of matrimony. She a wealthy widow, he a successful businessman. Fate was a curious thing. There was just one cloud on her horizon but it was not insignificant. It’s persistent presence had become ever more vexatious and indicative of a storm ahead. That storm had a name. It was called Charlotte Heywood and she, was the woman he loved.

Initially, she had found it such an outrageous prospect that it merited little consideration beyond amusement. She was a farmer’s daughter. It was an entirely laughable notion. That she should presume! That for one second she could contemplate usurping her. Steeling her power. She was a pretty little thing certainly but entirely without wealth or fashion. Still...She’d observed how he was drawn to her, how he touched her. How that touch verged on a caress. He devoured her with his eyes. Even at the height of his regard, he had never looked upon her with such blatant, unadulterated desire. That Miss Heywood appeared uncomprehending of the passion she had stirred, spoke of her innocence. Her every expression however, told of her increasing regard. It had taken Eliza Campion mere seconds to identify the threat. However, she believed that she was more than equal to the challenge she presented. She knew how men were. This fresh faced novelty peaked his curiosity no doubt but such inclinations were short lived. He would amuse himself with this flirtation, explore the limits of his thin veneer of gentlemanly conduct, push at the boundaries of her respectability but ultimately Sidney Parker would realise that Charlotte Heywood could offer him nothing beyond physical pleasure...and with a feckless brother like his, that would simply never be enough.

She considered now that he must have thought her a fool. Surely he should know never to underestimate her. She’d heard about a fire in Sanditon. Her set had amused themselves that perhaps Tom Parker’s ego had finally exploded. There were soon rumours of debts. Substantial debts. He’d always been the dutiful brother. She knew he was in town. Demeaning himself before every banker and investor in the city. It was only a matter of time before he came to call. Where was his farmer’s daughter now? She chose not to dwell on the fact that he’d proposed as though reciting the terms of a contractual agreement, then again, that’s exactly what it was. Since that day, he seldom smiled and when he did it never reached his eyes. Where once he artfully cultivated opportunities to spend time alone with her, he now actively avoided them. He drank more than he should. He disappeared for days with no communication. Then, she had found him asleep on a chaise at Bedford Place. He seemed to be having a nightmare. His head was tossing and turning on the cushion. She had made to wake him, until she heard him cry, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Charlotte. Please! Please! Forgive me Charlotte. Please don’t leave me!” It was ice water through her veins. It had been two days ago now. Since then she’d contemplated how easily love could turn to hate. He was the fool. He would pay for his folly. She would hold him in this life. His farmer’s daughter could have him in the next. She had destroyed him once before. She could do it again. His fate was hers to determine. Neither he nor his parasitic relatives would ever see a penny of her money. She’d burn it before she’d give it to them. This time, she’d make certain that there would be no more redemption for Sidney Parker. She returned to contemplating her silk and lace. Possessions, she mused, were so much easier to love.

She was still contemplating that thought, when a knock at the door disturbed her. Her butler entered. “Ma’am.” “What is it Partridge?” “Lady Susan Worcester is here ma’am. She has asked to wait upon you in the conservatory.” Eliza was surprised but not reluctant to receive her unexpected visitor. Lady Susan was, after all the leading light of the Beau Monde. With such an auspicious event mere weeks away, she was bound to wish to pay her compliments to the bride to be. “Tell her I will join her momentarily.” “Yes ma’am”. 

Lady Susan was admiring the array of orchids which filled the room, when she sensed a presence behind her. She turned. Mrs Campion smiled politely, “Lady Susan. What a pleasant surprise. Can I offer you some refreshment?” “Thank you Mrs Campion but I have another engagement. I anticipate my visit will be brief”. “But not unwelcome”. “You are all politeness. May I say your display is magnificent. My compliments to your gardener”. “Thank you. My late husband was something of a botanist.” “Indeed. I understand he was a man of many talents and diversions. You certainly made a most advantageous match and appear to have landed on your feet...so to speak”. Eliza chose to ignore the feline analogy. “I like to think it was advantageous on both sides.” Eliza smiled smugly. Lady Susan’s reply was swift and cutting, “Do you?” Her face soured. “Lady Susan. Not that I am ungrateful for your condescension but might I enquire as to the purpose of your waiting upon me?” Lady Susan contemplated her for several seconds before she finally spoke. “I believe you to be a highly intelligent woman. Therefore I won’t insult you by dissembling. I am here to discuss Mr Sidney Parker and to make you a proposition.” “A proposition? What could you possibly have to offer me Lady Worcester. As you rightly observed. I want for nothing.” “Hmm. Nothing but the love of your betrothed”. “I don’t know what you mean”. “Oh come, come Mrs Campion. You know he does not love you and what’s more, you know exactly with whom his love resides. Why should you want a man whose heart and soul belong to another? You know that this is about money. A desperate man trying to save his foolish brother and his unfortunate family. Why should you wish to condemn yourself to such a paltry existence?” “I reject your assertions ma’am” “Do you?” “Yes.” “I had hoped you were not so blind to sentiment. That you would see reason. That you would comprehend the futility of this arrangement. I am sorry you don’t.” “Well. If that is all Lady Susan...” “No. It isn’t. Far from it. You forget. I intend to offer you a proposition.” “Well? What is it pray?” “Everything you ever wanted.”

That certainly peaked her interest. “You’ll have to be clearer than that”. “I intend to be. You know I can offer you access to the very highest echelons of society. The highest.” Eliza gave a knowing grin, “I had heard that you were greatly favoured.” “Free him and I will ensure it”. Eliza laughed, “You think I’d give him up just for that?” “You value him that much?” “I value him not at all but others do and I find I like possessing things of value”. If Lady Susan was stunned by her callousness, she didn’t let it show. She had one last card to play. “I didn’t want to do this but you leave me no choice.” Eliza looked momentarily disconcerted. “You force me to invoke the name of Lord Mathers.” Eliza blanched, “What of him?” “It was all most unfortunate was it not? Your ageing husband. His poor, unfortunate ailing young wife. What distress you both must have caused her in her final days. To know that as she lay dying her husband lay with another woman.” “You know nothing”. “Oh Mrs Campion. You forget. I know everything. I have the letters.” “What letters?!” “Why, from his wife to her sister. Lady Mathers sister Annabelle has long been a dear friend. When she learned that you and I were acquainted, well. She felt the need to unburden herself to me. I find that people often do. They really are most painful to read. It would indeed be unfortunate should they find themselves in, shall we say, wider circulation.” “You’re blackmailing me”. “That’s such an ugly word. I prefer “inducing”.” “What do you want?” “A letter to Sidney, in your own hand, dated today, freeing him from any and all obligation to you.” “If I don’t comply?” “Oh I think you know what happens next”. “You think his love alone will save them? He’ll never see my money.” “He doesn’t need it. Those matters are resolved. Mrs Campion, you once wronged Sidney Parker and in turn he has wronged you. Enough. You entered a game you could never win for a prize that was not worth the pursuit. Let it end now. Free him. Free yourself.” 

Less than fifteen minutes later Lady Susan left Belgravia with a single page letter in her reticule. What the document lacked in detail, it made up for in consequence. Though he did not know it yet, Sidney Parker was now a free man. Lady Susan smiled as she looked out of the window of her carriage. She would rendezvous shortly with Lord Babington. Their mission now was to reunite Sidney with his destiny.


	8. Sanditon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is made present again.

For Sidney, it had been yet another long, wretched night. Then again, it had been a long year. In truth, the last decade had afforded little to recommend it. It seemed that for him, fate had decreed that the dawn would never come. He’d had the briefest glimpse of what might have been. The merest taste of a life filled with happiness, with love, with a passionate devotion. He’d been an utter fool in allowing himself to imagine a different life to the one he knew. To aspire to perfection. To make the thoughts he held so dear, real in his mind and in his heart. He’d made plans, only for the Gods to laugh once more. 

He’d dared to dream of putting a ring on her finger, of bringing his beautiful, sweet, darling bride to their new home, of making love to her for the first time and every time thereafter. That fantasy, was now his most vivid and acute form of torture. The unimaginable thrill of knowing her every secret pleasure and hidden desire. He imagined the searing heat and yet gentle tenderness of her touch, of waking next to her, of one day holding their children in his arms. The simple pleasures of just being near her, hearing her voice, the sound of his name on her lips, the joy of shared smiles, of laughing together, arguing and then reconciling. Holding her hand in his, sharing his thoughts with one who might value them, reading his paper, while she read a book beside him. The bliss of knowing he finally had a home and that she was there, filling it with love. It would never be and in three short weeks, his fate would be sealed. His dreams would become a nightmare from which he would never awaken. The banns would be read for the first time this Sunday. He idly wished for some objection but he knew that none would come. He didn’t have that kind of luck. Sidney Parker did not generally believe himself to be a fortunate man. However, Sidney Parker was very wrong. 

He’d been lying awake in his bed in Bedford Place, for most of the night. Sleep was impossible. He’d briefly contemplated his recent conversation with Georgiana. To hear her wish him dead had stopped his heart. How could he have engendered such feelings in one he’d only sought to protect? He desperately wanted to make amends for his prior neglect. Charlotte had been right, which was a more frequent occurrence than he’d cared to admit. Georgiana was alone in the world and she was vulnerable. He was all she had. He wanted to honour the memory of her father. One of the finest men he ever knew. To fulfil his final wish and give his only daughter the life she deserved. He would not betray him. He would not abandon her. They had many miles ahead before they reached an understanding of each other but he knew that he wanted to make a start and he felt a certain comfort that she might now share that wish. Her admonition to him to be the better part of himself, that the best of hearts still held him dear, had affected him greatly. Did Charlotte still hold him dear? Could she? Even after everything that had passed between them? Part of him wanted her to hate him, every bit as intensely as he hated himself. Somehow he could live with that. It was right and just and proper. It was the thought that she might still love him as he loved her, that this constant, inescapable pain was one which she shared. One he’d inflicted upon her. God in Heaven. He could not bear it. 

He wanted her to put him entirely from her mind, to mend the precious heart he so cruelly broke and to give it to one much more worthy of such treasure. One who would care for her as he could have done. As he should have done. One like young Mr Stringer. He wasn’t blind to his regard for her. Like Charlotte, Sidney lacked the superficial nature of his future wife. He had worked with men who possessed nothing on this earth but their own merit and he had found among them, the very best of fellows. What James Stringer lacked in fortune, he made up for in character. He knew and loved Charlotte enough to know, that had her affections tended towards his brother’s foreman, money would never have been a consideration in giving him her heart. It was yet another of the many reasons why he loved her so. It was only after his remark at the Regatta, that Sidney had been alerted to Stringer’s hopes. It would be easy to feel threatened, to be jealous but he could hardly criticise another for falling in love with one whom he himself, had been so helpless to resist. He knew that his could not be the only loving eyes that lit upon her. However much he flattered himself that his were the only ones to which she responded with equal affection. Stringer was a good man and his regard for Charlotte was sincere. He had proven himself to be a better man than him. 

These thoughts must stop. They had to stop. They served no purpose but to engender abject misery and it was paralysing him. He dragged himself out of bed and opened the curtains on another day in the city. For the first time in weeks, early spring sunlight flooded his room. The noise levels were increasing as the vast swathe of humanity beneath him, set about their daily tasks. He watched as a coachman prepared his horses across the street. The Bainbridge’s must be for Hertfordshire again. The burly man in his fine livery was whistling a tune. He wondered what that must be like? To achieve some semblance of contentment with your lot in life. To seek for nothing more than honest work for an honest wage, food and shelter and fair weather to set you on your way. He could aspire to no greater purpose. Indeed, he would settle for it. He threw on some clothes and made his way downstairs. He knew he must look like a shabby fellow, unwashed, his hair dishevelled but he had no one bar the maid to disturb him at this hour and she was occupied with her task of lighting the fires. In the event, she had been startled to see him. He apologised for frightening her and requested some tea and a little toast when cook was able. He made a point of never being rude to those who waited upon him. Yet another contrast with his intended, who treated her own staff as one might an unfortunate deposit on the sole of a shoe.

He was desperately trying to remove the sleep, or the lack of it from his tired eyes, when a loud knock at the front door cut through the silence and startled him. He saw the maid move towards the door but stopped her before she reached it, “Do not concern yourself. I’ll go”. It was an express from Lord Babington. Sidney read it with concern as he returned to the drawing room. A matter of urgency had arisen. He required his presence immediately, in Sanditon. He should be assured there was no illness or danger to report among either family but he urged Sidney to return as soon as possible. He was utterly bewildered. Why on earth would Babbers wish to see him so urgently and why there and not here in London, or at his country estate? Could it be a matter with Lady Denham? He would, of course act immediately to assist his friend but the very thought of returning to Sanditon was an agony. If the distance of London offered him no respite from his memories, walking in her footsteps, spending time in the places she had come to love and where he had grown to love her, would be torture of the acutest kind. He was certain that Babington suspected his misery and so for him to beg his return, must be resultant from a most serious cause. He would reply to his correspondence and prepare to leave immediately. 

Georgiana had been awakened by the noise and had joined him in the drawing room. The maid had arrived with his tea and toast. Sidney offered it to Georgiana and requested more. It occurred to him that perhaps his ward might welcome some time away from London. He tentatively suggested that she join him in Sanditon. He would have business to attend to but he knew that Arthur would be delighted to see her again. A more incongruous pair he could scarce imagine but somehow, they appeared to have forged a friendship. She could stay with Tom and Mary. He would never again burden her with Mrs Griffiths and the vacuous Beaufort Sisters. That in itself was an unendurable cruelty for which he begged her forgiveness. They exchanged sincere smiles for perhaps the first time in their fractious relationship. She considered his suggestion for a moment before agreeing. He told her he would summon the carriage for an hour and a half from now and urged her to make haste in her preparations. It only occurred to him much later as they left London far behind, that he had made no effort to inform Eliza of his departure. 

Sidney reflected that while he did not love her and indeed could barely tolerate her company, he had made this pathetic, mercenary bargain. He had no right to be cruel. He’d never believed himself capable of that but events had forced him to reflect that in some respects, he and his brother Tom were not so very different after all. They were both careless and too often it was others who paid the price for their flaws. He would write to her as soon as he arrived in Sanditon, explain the necessity for his unexpected journey and apologise for his conduct. He owed her the dignity and respect she was due as his betrothed. With regard to sentiment, he could offer her little else.

If most of the journey had passed without incident and largely in companionable silence, Sidney found his mood growing increasingly sullen as their carriage swept along the cliff tops on the outskirts of town. He had wanted to close the curtains, to shut out the view but such a futile gesture could not stop the images which flashed, unrelenting, through his minds eye. In time, Georgiana noted his distress. She was young, however she had already seen enough of the world and had spent much of her time in observation of it’s joys and sorrows. The result was an unerring ability to see into a person’s very soul. She also articulated her thoughts with economy and with absolute, devastating precision, “You’re thinking about Charlotte. Aren’t you?” “Why do you say that?” “I think you seldom stop.” He could not deny the truth of her words, however much he wished to. “This place. She loved it so,” he observed. “She did. I never understood why but she did.” He smiled at her remark. “I think she’s one of life’s enthusiasts. An optimist. She seeks joy in the world around her. She finds it in the simplest things.” “I’d never call you simple Sidney Parker.” He actually laughed, as did Georgiana. However, it wasn’t long before the dark clouds appeared once more, “I never brought her the joy that should have been hers. Only sorrow.” “That’s not entirely true. Yes, you caused her terrible pain but no one privileged to know her thoughts, could doubt that however brief, there was a time when you brought her great happiness.” Sidney looked out of the window as he replied, “Thank you. She brought such a vision of happiness to me. I could never have deserved her.” At that moment, he realised the spot they were about to pass. He rapped his cane against the roof, “Driver! Stop the carriage!” Georgiana looked shocked and confused as they came to a sudden halt, “What is it Sidney?” He was quiet for a moment. He took a deep breath before responding, “This is the place where we said our goodbyes to each other. This is where I saw her for the last time.” His eyes were filled with tears. She knew there was nothing she could say. He shook himself from his reminiscences, “It’s not far from here to the town. The driver will take you to Trafalgar House.” “Where are you going?” “I should like to walk a little. Tom is always telling me sea air is good for clearing your head.” He opened the door and stepped out. “Sidney...” He sensed her unexpected concern. “I will be well Georgiana. Truly. I will be well. I will see you back at the house. Please give my regards to Tom and Mary. Tell them I will join you all shortly.” She considered him for a moment, “As you wish”. “I’m grateful.” With that he closed the door gave instructions to the coachman and told him to drive on. Leaving him alone in this torturous landscape with only his thoughts for company. He was not to be alone for long.

James Stringer had spent the past seven months listening to Tom Parker’s often illogical and impractical plans for the terrace rebuild. He’d been afforded ample opportunity to perfect his skill for listening attentively, suggesting a much better idea, then standing back as his employer adopted it as his own without apparent conscience, or even the decency to feign embarrassment. Still, it gave him an opportunity to develop his skills and expand his knowledge and for that, at least, he was grateful. That others also saw his merits, pleased him too. Miss Heywood for example. They still corresponded and he sent her sketches and designs that he’d been working on. He’d even sent some ideas for the tenant cottages on her father’s estate. She’d received them with gratitude and pleasure and in her replies, was always kind, thoughtful and concerned for his wellbeing. He now understood that he would never hold the place in her heart that was occupied by another. However cruel and unworthy he considered him to be. For a time it had saddened him greatly but time was indeed a healer and he cared for her too much to importuned her on the subject and risk a friendship that he held dear.

He had recently begun taking an interest in a clergyman’s daughter from the nearby village of Kempton. They had met on several occasions now and he was growing more fond of her by the day. He couldn’t say that he was in love as yet but the prospect was definitely there. His work remained his principal focus and as such, he was still subject to the whims and flights of fancy of Tom Parker. Hence for the past week, he had been traversing the various routes into Sanditon determining the best possible vantage points for signage, to promote the town and its “entertainments” and to welcome visitors and passing travellers. When he had located the best spots, he was to submit his designs. He’d considered “Abandon All Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here!” but that was more in amusement than in earnest. It had been a strange few months. He still missed his father. As irascible as he could be, he knew that he loved him and he afforded him a companionship he surely missed. The absence of Miss Heywood’s lively presence was also greatly felt and after the fire, interest in the town had waned. Since his betrothal “he” hadn’t set foot in the place. James Stringer didn’t lament his absence, nor that of his city friends. That was one reason why the sight of a tall figure dressed in black, standing on the cliff top looking out to sea, did not immediately call him to mind. It was only as he drew closer that he realised who it was. 

At first he determined to say nothing to him, to walk past as if he didn’t exist. However, that wasn’t in his nature. If Sidney Parker had proven himself to be dishonourable, it would not make him so. He stopped and observed him for a moment before speaking. He was as still as a statue. His back to him. If he were not upright, Stringer would be unsure if he breathed. “Good afternoon Mr Parker.” There was no reply. Stringer looked puzzled. He spoke louder, “Good afternoon Mr Parker”. Sidney was startled. He turned swiftly. Stringer was shocked by the sight of him. He looked almost frightened, pale against his black clothing and the darkness around his eyes spoke of a man who hadn’t slept well in some time. Sidney composed himself and finally spoke. His voice was soft and cracked, causing him to clear his throat, “Good afternoon Mr Stringer. Please accept my apologies, I didn’t hear you there.” He almost felt sorry for this shadow of the confident, swaggering man he once was and he decided to afford him some dignity, “The sea is indeed unsettled today. Makes it hard to hear yourself think, sir.” Sidney gave a weak smile, “Indeed. I hope you are well Mr Stringer. I don’t believe we’ve met since your father’s tragic passing. I had wanted to express to you how deeply saddened I was to learn of it...but events overtook me. He was a good man.” “Thank you sir. Truth be told, he could be an ill-tempered old devil but he meant well and I do miss him.” “I’m sure you do.” “If I may beg leave, please accept my congratulations on your betrothal sir. I wish you joy.”

Almost as soon as he’d said it, Young Stringer regretted his words. They were not sincere and he abhorred dishonesty. He could not wish joy on one who’d been the cause of her deepest sorrow. Sidney’s reply was simple and devoid of feeling, “Thank you Mr Stringer.” Thank you?! That was it!? Could he really be that sanguine? Could he simply accept his congratulations without a thought to one whom he’d injured so. What other possible reply he could give under the circumstances, he did not stop to consider. Stringer suddenly burned with the desire to champion her cause and avenge her broken heart. Cruel, unfeeling man. He would not permit him to go unchallenged. “In truth Sir, if you’ll forgive me, I was somewhat surprised to discover the identity of your intended. I had rather thought your affections lay elsewhere.” He’d opened the wound now. “Mr Stringer. I have the greatest respect for you but this topic is not appropriate.” “She was my dear friend and the finest woman I ever met. She gave her heart to you without artifice. That you could treat her as you did. That you could discard her, abuse her goodness and the fine sentiments she held for you! How could you break such a heart!? One which others less fortunate than yourself, would have cherished! Better you had left her alone!” He had raised his voice now and there was such an expression of rage in his features that Sidney was stunned. “Mr Stringer! I have told you I will not discuss her with you. You may presume to know Miss Heywood’s concerns but you do not know mine!” “You are a rich man with a rich man’s privilege. You abused her innocent nature.” At that remark Sidney’s countenance changed. He moved towards Stringer with an ice cold expression. “Mr Stringer I am warning you. Do not try my patience.” “I should avenge her honour right now!” The remark evoked painful memories for Sidney. He tried hard to contain his fury. “The view must be very fine from atop your moral high ground Mr Stringer. You know nothing of the circumstances of which you presume to speak so freely, nor do I intend to share them with you. It is none of your concern. If you wish to strike me then do so. Do it now! You will not be afforded another opportunity. My feelings for Charlotte are sincere....were sincere. I did not impugn her reputation nor abuse her honour, nor would I ever seek to do so. That I injured her, is an agony I carry with me every minute of every day. I can only tell you this. What I did was not for my own advantage.” “It certainly wasn’t for hers!” Stringer replied. Sidney lowered his head, “No. It was not. I know what I am Mr Stringer and I know what I did. I live with it every day and I will pay for it forever. I pray God she feels nothing for me now. That she never thinks of me again. My punishment is to be unable to think of anyone or anything else. Now, if that is all, there are pressing demands upon my time which I must attend to. Good day Mr Stringer.” With that he walked away. Stringer watched his dark frame until it was out of sight.

By the time Sidney reached Trafalgar House he was exhausted physically, emotionally and mentally. He sought nothing more than sustenance and rest. Wickins opened the door. Sidney greeted him and handed him his coat and hat. The footman informed him that his luggage had been sent to his room at the hotel and the family awaited him in the library. He contemplated making his excuses that he needed rest but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He took a long, deep breath, fixed a smile and headed down the hallway. As he reached the library he heard an assortment of voices mingling. A confused expression grew on his face. He entered the room to find Tom, Mary, Arthur, Diana, Georgiana and Babington seated by the fire. Mary was the first to see him and cried out her customary, enthusiastic greeting, “Sidney!” He was frozen to the spot. No sooner had he been embraced by his sister in law, than Crowe, of all people appeared at his side, clutching a bottle of Madeira in one hand and a glass in the other. “Bloody Hell Parker! Where the jiggers have you been?! We’ve been here since noon! It’s 4 o’clock. Sun’s well over the yard arm.” Babington admonished him, “Crowe! You oaf! Have regard for your language there are ladies present.” “Crowe nodded towards Mary, Georgiana and Diana, “A thousand apologies dear ladies....but does anyone have a corkscrew?” The assembled party rolled their eyes while Georgiana giggled. Sidney had watched the entire exchange in utter bewilderment. Finally he spoke, “Will someone please tell me what in Gods name is going on here?!” Babington stepped forward and put his hand on Sidney’s shoulder, “I think you’d better sit down old friend.”


	9. Willingden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day by a lake...

They sat him down and offered him a brandy before Babington began to relate every particular of recent events. He explained the deep concern shared by his family and friends that, in his desperate efforts to save his loved ones from ruin, Sidney had made a most dreadful mistake. One which they could not sanction and which they had sworn to resolve. Mary wept as she spoke of their love for him, their deepest wish to see him happy and of their realisation that his happiness lay not with one from his past but with their own dear Charlotte. Tom expressed his profound shame that he had brought his brother so low and had caused him such dreadful sorrow. Arthur and Diana expressed their gratitude to him but Arthur cautioned him, never again to believe that those who loved him would rejoice in his sacrifice.

Babington then explained the details of the financial arrangements which would be put in place, securing the rebuild and thus the immediate future of the Sanditon project. He informed him of the involvement of Lady Worcester and her “particular friend” and of their mutual desire that Sidney, with his business acumen, might have much greater oversight of financial matters in future. At the invocation of the Prince Regent and doubtless to conceal the awkward evidence of his own manifest incompetence, Tom could contain himself no longer, “So you see Sidney. There could be no better outcome! Sanditon will be saved and emerge even better than before. We will be the most talked of location on the south coast.” The entire group looked at Tom. Mary was in utter despair that he could speak of the shame of his conduct one minute and yet be so cavalier the next. The rest looked on, in thinly veiled contempt. Sidney, who had sat silently throughout the narrative, stood up and walked towards the fireplace, running his hand anxiously over his face, then he finally spoke. His voice was barely audible, “So the ends justify the means. All is well with Tom Parker.” Tom replied, “Sidney...” “What Tom? You are whole again. No damage done that cannot be repaired. What is done is done, eh!?” “I never meant to hurt you brother.” “You never do Tom and yet you somehow manage it. This time the wound is deeper than you could ever know. This time the injury has not been confined to those all too familiar with pain. Those repairs may not be so easily made. I am enormously grateful to you Babbers. You are truly, the finest friend a man could ever wish for. You too Crowe, you old reprobate. My extraordinary brother, Arthur and of course you, dearest Mary. I will write to Lady Susan and express my gratitude and that of our family, to her and to her “friend”.” 

Diana suddenly stood up and embraced her brother, “Don’t you see what this means Sidney?! You’re free!” He looked at his sister’s euphoric expression with sadness and resolution, “I am not “free” Diana. You are and I am glad of it. I am certainly free of the burden of seeing my family ruined, of the miserable necessity to use money that is ill gotten, that is true and it is overwhelming but I am bound in honour to proceed with the marriage. I will not destroy what is left of my integrity.” With that Babington stepped forward and handed him the letter he’d been carrying for days as though it were more precious than all the jewels in the kingdom and more valuable than gold. In many ways, to the recipient, it was. His friend looked puzzled. “Read it Sidney. I think you’ll find your sister is quite right.” He took it tentatively. When he’d finished reading, Sidney clenched the letter tightly in his fist and closed his eyes. “She has freed me of my obligation. It is over”. Where once, a decade before, a similar correspondence, written by the same hand, had resulted in years of desolation, the feelings which this letter induced were of an entirely different nature and were beyond his description. He turned towards the fireplace and gripped the mantle tightly as though it were the only thing holding him upright. In hindsight, it probably was. Mary spoke, “Perhaps we should give you a moment Sidney?” 

The group began to move from the library. Suddenly he turned towards them, “No. Please. There is no need to leave.” He looked around the room, focusing on nothing in particular, like a man formulating a plan. Georgiana, who’d been watching him intently throughout, suddenly spoke, “You know what you must do. You know what you want to do. You must take your chance. You must do it. Go Sidney. Go now.” He looked intensely at her as though reading her mind. Arthur asked, “Go where Miss Lambe?! Where must he go?!” Sidney and Georgiana exchanged knowing smiles. With that he fled from the room at considerable speed. Crowe who was almost entirely through the bottle of Madeira, slurred, “Does anyone have any idea what’s going on?” Georgiana, Diana, Mary, Tom, Arthur and Babington raced down the hallway after him. Georgiana caught up just as he grabbed his coat and hat and summoned his carriage. She took his arm and whispered, “Remember, be your best self. Be your truest self. For her.” He replied with a voice filled with emotion, “I will”. He embraced his ward for the first time and she responded. “God speed Sidney Parker.” He smiled broadly for the first time in months. As he ran towards the hotel to fetch his luggage, he felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and for once, his purpose was crystal clear. His family and friends watched as he emerged moments later with his bags and entered the carriage. He smiled and responded as the group waved him goodbye. Tom perhaps somewhat disconsolately. No matter. He had other concerns to focus on now. He would address it on his return. He heard Mary and Diana call out, “We love you Sidney! Safe journey! Write as soon as you can!” Arthur was still utterly confused as he turned to Georgiana, “Miss Lambe! You must tell me! Where is he going?!” “Oh Arthur! He’s going to Charlotte! He’s going to Willingden!”

Charlotte was delighted that the weather was finality improving. It allowed her the bliss of longer days of exercise and escape, in the fresh air. He’d imagined her as some delicate little creature confined to her father’s house with her piano and her embroidery. To own the truth, while she enjoyed music and loved to dance, with him most especially, she had little ability to play and beyond mending her own clothes and those of her siblings, she had even less inclination for a needle and thread. She vastly preferred to be given a task to perform. She enjoyed her labours, they were rewarding and of late, she found they afforded her useful distraction. Today alone, she’d been awake since dawn and had already assisted with the lambing, helped her father to pay the workers and had been to the village that morning to post letters to Georgiana and to Mr Stringer. She was now setting off on a two mile walk to the lake, with the intention of catching enough fish for a decent pie. There were Carp and Tench and Pike to be had. If she was lucky, she’d be home in time to help prepare a good supper. 

Georgiana had written to her en route to Sanditon. The thought of returning there evoked such confusing feelings. She had made friendships which she would always value. She had found the deepest love, which though in vain, she would cherish forever. Perhaps one day she too would return. For now, it was best kept in her past. That way, there would be healing. She hoped. Mr Stringer was delighted to inform her in his letter, that his delightful plans for a pagoda were finally proceeding in earnest. Lately Lord Babington had announced his intention to invest significantly in Sanditon and specifically in ornamental public gardens to honour his wife and late mother. Charlotte thought it a charming idea and characteristic of Lord Babington’s thoughtful and devoted nature. He’d approved of Mr Stringer’s design and it was to proceed immediately to construction. Ideally, to be completed before his wife’s confinement. He also conveyed to her his news that he had formed an “affectionate attachment” to a Miss Cotterel from Kempton. He was most anxious that she should meet her. He hoped that might be soon. Charlotte doubted it but expressed her delight on both counts. He had also confessed that in light of the changes in his circumstances he may be unable to correspond quite so frequently. She completely understood. The world was moving on and leaving her behind, it seemed. For as Sidney Parker rightly observed, “Nothing ever happens in Willingden.”

Alison was trying, with limited success to separate her younger brothers who were fighting over the outcome of a game of lawn bowls. She managed to grab one brother with one hand and had just about secured another, when the sound of horses hooves and wheels on gravel drew her attention to the drive. Proceeding towards her were four of the finest black Friesians she had ever seen, pulling an elegant black carriage. Such finery was seldom seen in Willingden. It’s approaching presence had the desired effect of halting the preceding battle and transfixing the throng. As it came to a halt outside the front door, it was as though they all held their breath in anticipation. Who could make such an entrance? It was then that she saw him and immediately she knew who it was. Charlotte had described him to perfection. He was indeed a contrast of darkness and light and was the handsomest man she had ever seen. As he stepped from the carriage and it moved off in search of sustenance for the horses and coachmen alike, he turned to look towards them. He bid them good morning. She responded in kind. This was the voice of the man her beloved sister loved so very much. He smiled. It lit up his face. She knew in that moment there was mutual recognition. Her brother Samuel asked, “Who is he Ali?” She replied without hesitation. “That man Samuel, is Mr Sidney Parker.”

He’d never been so utterly terrified in his life. In the three days it had taken him to reach Willingden, he’d rehearsed several speeches, decided they were awful, composed more and found them equally wanting. He knew he must speak with her father before approaching her. Although, if he were to see her first...oh propriety be damned, he yearned to sweep her into his arms, kiss her with every ounce of passion he felt and never let her go from this day hence. It occurred to him that if Mr Heywood was aware of the circumstances which had gone before, he might run him off with a shotgun. Georgiana had told him recently of Charlotte’s shooting prowess. He confessed that he’d found the thought somewhat..stimulating, at the time. However, now that he considered that she might be similarly inclined to fill him with buckshot, it had lost it’s allure. He couldn’t blame either of them if they did. Though he sincerely hoped they wouldn’t. His heart was beating out of his chest as he approached the house. The land and gardens didn’t have the sculpted elegance of Babington’s manor but it was nonetheless beautiful for its rustic simplicity. This was the place that gave him Charlotte Heywood. This was the land on which she played and grew. These were the people who raised and forged the greatest love he would ever know. How could he fail to be enchanted? 

The house itself was larger than he anticipated. While he knew that the livelihood of their tenants still depended upon them, he imagined that the Heywood family must have been very consequential indeed in years gone by. He heard the sound of children’s voices and noticed figures on the lawn. One was a girl, not much younger than Charlotte and unmistakably related. This must be Alison. As he exited the carriage he greeted her and they exchanged a smile. As he turned towards the large, heavy front door, he took a final deep breath, straightened his waistcoat and adjusted his top coat and hat. This was it. Behind this door lay his fate and his future happiness. He rang the bell and waited.

He had grown familiar with the appearance of a butler or liveried footman and so the sight of a man he presumed to be the master of the house greeting him, took him somewhat by surprise. If he’d hoped for a little more time to compose himself before this meeting, he was to be disappointed. Mr Heywood looked intently at this tall, dark stranger standing at his door, twisting his gloves in his hand as though wringing out a wet flannel. He was the one to break the silence between them, “Can I help you sir?” “Mr Heywood?” “Yes and whom pray are you sir?” “Oh, yes. My apologies sir. My name is Sidney Parker. Late of London and of Sanditon.” Mr Heywood mused to himself, another member of the Sanditon Parker’s. They really had something of a habit of finding themselves in Willingden. He could not help a wry smile at this unexpected visitor’s nervous formality, “Well met Mr Parker. What, may I ask, brings you to Willingden and specifically, to my door?” Sidney looked mortified. “Of course! I should have told you my purpose. Please forgive me. I am not generally so......” “Anxious?” Sidney winced, “I was going to say bumbling and idiotic but anxious is also an accurate description.” Mr Heywood stifled a laugh. He really shouldn’t sport with the poor man but this was irresistible. For a moment there was yet more silence. Finally, Mr Heywood calmly and carefully annunciated as though speaking to a small child. “Mr Parker. You still haven’t told me why you’re here.” “I love your daughter Mr Heywood!” It was out of him before he could think of how random it must have sounded. Mr Heywood simply looked at him. He must have made quite the sight, eyes wide in terror. “Which one?” “I’m sorry?” “Which daughter? I have several.” “Oh! Charlotte sir. Charlotte. I love your daughter Charlotte...very much...very much indeed...sir.” “Well in that case, you’d better come in.”

Sidney found himself seated at the kitchen table, surrounded by small children. All of whom were staring at him in a manner which was most unnerving. Mrs Heywood took pity on him, “You met Charlotte during her stay in Sanditon Mr Parker?” “Yes indeed ma’am. We spent a good deal of time in each other’s company.” At Mr Heywood’s disapproving look, he hastened to add, “In the company of others too, of course.” The less said about their clifftop encounter the better. “Charlotte has very fond memories of Sanditon.” Sidney blanched slightly. He knew he was the reason why not all of her memories of that time could afford her joy. “She brightens any location with her presence, I feel.” Mrs Heywood smiled while some of the older children giggled. Mrs Heywood was swift to reprimand them, “If you cannot behave respectfully to our guest, you can take supper in your rooms.” Silence was restored. 

Where was she? Her arrival was something which both excited and terrified him. Eventually, he summoned the courage to enquire, “Erm, might I ask where Miss Heywood is?” Mr Heywood replied, “She’s gone fishing.” Sidney looked surprised, “Fishing?” “Yes. She quite an angler. She’d best any of her brothers. She caught a trout last year that was as splendid a specimen as any I’ve seen in competition.” His obvious pride made Sidney smile. “She truly is the most remarkable woman”. “Yes she is Mr Parker. We raised her to have spirit and to know her own mind. We won’t part with her to any man who seeks to crush that spirit or does not value her.” “Mr Heywood. I know we have only met but I assure you, I should never wish to crush her remarkable spirit. Indeed it is one of the very many qualities which Charlotte possesses, which I adore.” “Fine words Mr Parker. I’m more a man of deeds.” “I understand that sir and would only beg your indulgence to afford me the time to prove myself worthy of her.” “That will be for Charlotte to decide.” Mrs Heywood intervened, “It’s occurred to me that Charlotte took no lunch with her. Perhaps you could take it to her Mr Parker?” Sidney was on his feet so fast, they all jumped. “Yes! Of course ma’am. I would be delighted. Simply point me in the right direction.” She found his eagerness touching. Mr Heywood had yet to be convinced. He would take him the first mile and a half. After that it was a straight path to the lake. He would wait on them at that point. If they didn’t return within the hour he’d come down to the lake himself. Sidney nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t make me regret my generosity Mr Parker.” “I won’t sir. I can assure you. I would never disrespect or dishonour your daughter.” With that, they set off.

She hadn’t caught a thing from her location on the river bank. She knew that if she could get to the small cluster of rocks beyond the edge of the lake, she stood a much better chance. Taking off her boots and stockings and holding up her dress, she waded in. She quickly clambered on to the rocks and cast her line. The sun was reflecting off the lake and she squinted against it’s intense glare. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the lake’s edge. It wasn’t long before she began to sense a presence approaching. She couldn’t make them out but she suspected it was her brother Adam. He had intended to join her after he finished his lessons. She called out to him, “You won’t have much luck today Adam! The fish are not to be tempted.” The reply sent shivers through her entire body, “Then they are very contrary fish indeed.” She knew that voice anywhere. It froze her where she stood. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. Impossible! She must be losing her mind! She tried desperately to make out the figure on the bank but she couldn’t. She lent forward and completely forgot where she was. Her foot slipped on the rock beneath her and she suddenly found herself falling. With a loud splash, the cold water enveloped her. 

She flailed for a moment but within seconds felt a hand grasping hers. She surfaced into the arms of Sidney Parker. She was struggling to breathe both from the shock of the cold water and the vision before her. His eyes were panicked and his expression anxious, “Charlotte! Hold on to me. It’s alright. I have you. Are you hurt?” Finally, she could focus and had regained her presence of mind and her footing, “I’m fine. I slipped.” “I saw. It was entirely my fault. I startled you.” She was sweeping her wet hair from her eyes. “I couldn’t see you. I heard your voice but the sun was in my eyes.” “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” “I don’t think so. I’m more embarrassed than anything.” “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Tears had come to her eyes. “You are hurt, you’re crying!” “It’s the shock that’s all.” She never was a good liar. It wasn’t in her nature. ‘Why are you here?” “I came to see you”. “Why? Why would you do that? Why, when it can only cause me pain? Why can’t you leave me alone? I need to forget you! I must forget you. I cannot have peace otherwise.” She was openly weeping now. His arms were still wrapped tightly around her, both of them dripping wet and still partially submerged in the lake. He pulled them both to the shore and helped her from the water. They faced each other. She was shivering. He acted on instinct and put his arms around her once more. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let go. His voice was breaking with emotion, “I don’t want you to forget me Charlotte. Please don’t send me away from you. I don’t want to cause you pain. I never wanted to. It kills me that I ever did. I made the most terrible, impossible choices. I put my family before you. I put money before you. I thought the only heart I was breaking was my own...and it is broken Charlotte. It is empty. I am nothing without you. My life is worthless without you in it.” “You mustn’t say these things!” “I do and I must. The issue of my brother’s debts has been resolved. Had I not been so foolish and short sighted and reluctant to burden my friends with my concerns, or involve them in my family’s crisis, I might have found the resolution myself. It is done now however and as to the wretched bargain I made, I have been freed from my obligation.” “So now that these matters are resolved to your family’s satisfaction, you return to me?!” “I know how this must look to you but I beg you to believe me I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I couldn’t look at Mary and the children and do nothing Charlotte. God help me I couldn’t do it. He sank to his knees and wept as he begged her, “Forgive me Charlotte please! Forgive me. I love you so. With all my heart and soul. I know I am a poor bargain. I know that any man would be beyond fortunate to have your regard and I am not worthy of it but I promise you I will devote the rest of my life to loving you and caring for you and for the family we make. Can we not rewrite our history if we find it disagreeable? You asked me that once. Give me one last chance Charlotte. Please. Let me try. Let us both try, together.” 

Charlotte finally spoke, “Please get up.” Slowly he rose to his feet, hastily wiping the tears from his eyes. “I cannot do it. It’s impossible.” Sidney closed his eyes and lowered his head. He knew it. It was as he feared. All was lost. “I wanted to. I truly did. Perhaps my life would have been easier if I could...but I can’t stop myself from loving you Sidney Parker.” She would never forget the look on his face in that moment as he began to understand the meaning of what she’d just said. It was beyond description. He smiled and it felt as though her world exploded into colour once more. Then his face grew serious, “Miss Heywood. I beg leave to finish our conversation now. I fear it has been too long delayed.” She knew exactly what he meant. “My dearest, darling Charlotte. I place myself in your power and my life in your hands. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Her emotions were so overwhelming to her in that moment, that her answer was barely above a whisper, “Yes. Yes I will. Yes.” Sidney pulled her to him, “My Charlotte. My love.” They kissed with such passion that Charlotte could barely stand. Fortunately her future husband had a perfect solution. He simply lifted her off her feet and spun her around until they were both dizzy and laughing like children. Her final coherent thought as he kissed her once again and she could feel every contour of his magnificent body pressed against her own, was how on earth they would explain arriving back completely drenched, on a gloriously sunny day? She had never wished for rain so much in her life. Then again, with his lips currently exploring her neck, she would think about that particular dilemma later. Much later.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A union of two souls...

They lay on the grass by the side of the lake for some time, sharing the lunch Charlotte’s mother had prepared and contemplating their new found happiness. After some discussion they concluded, with some justification they believed, that no two people on this earth, had ever been as happy as they. Sidney found that his beloved betrothed made a most comfortable and luxurious blanket, while Charlotte discovered that her future husband’s chest was the most perfect pillow.

What heat there was left in the spring afternoon sunshine, accompanied by a gentle breeze, was helping to make them both less “drenched” and more accurately described as “soggy”. Sidney had managed to discarded his top coat just before he’d jumped in the lake to retrieve her. He wrapped her in it tightly and coupled with his embrace and frequent, fervent kisses, Charlotte was feeling greatly warmed. She was growing very fond of this kissing business. He had the softest lips. She had always thought they looked very fine but she had no idea they were capable of such wonders. She found herself contemplating what other delights her husband to be might afford her. She blushed deeply at the very thought. Sidney noticed. “Tell me future wife, to what do we owe the flush of your most adorable cheeks”. “Nothing at all.” “Ah. You often blush without cause. So noted. I will endeavour in future to give you absolutely no cause whatsoever. As often as I can.” He looked at her with such intensity that she felt a fire building inside of her. These feelings. These extraordinary feelings. That only this man could provoke in her. He made her feel wanton and wild. For the first time in her life, her own emotions felt strange to her. She could no longer control them, or even understand from where they came. It both terrified and excited her. She had allowed him permission that his hand might stray a little beyond normal propriety. It was on one such journey along her waist, to her hips, that he suddenly stopped and sat bolt upright.

“Oh God! Your father!” That was more than enough to have her leaping to her feet, “Where?!” He laughed, “He’s not here my love. Please calm yourself. I promised him we’d join him in an hour at the crossroads half a mile hence. He was kind enough to lead me to you.” “Sidney! You frightened me half to death!” “I’m making rather a habit of that aren’t I? Forgive me.” “You are! Please desist. Lest my wedding become my funeral!” He suddenly stood and became serious. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Never speak of your death to me. Even in jest. I should never wish to conceive of a world without you in it Charlotte.” She smiled at him affectionately as her hand caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and inclined his face to her tender touch. ”Nor I you. I love you so very deeply and so dearly Sidney.” “Say it again”. “That I love you?” “Yes, that you love me, I wish you to say that always and to mean it but please, say my name again”. “Sidney. There shall that do?” “No. It shall not! Say it again”. He was smiling broadly now, that perfect smile that she decided was hers and hers alone. “Sidney!” “Say it again!” “Sidney!” He picked her up and was spinning her around once more as they laughed, she loved the sound. She could not imagine a moment more wonderful than this. She wanted to stop the world and live this joyous feeling forever. She shouted to the heavens “Sidney!” Then it was another voice that was calling his name and in a much less euphoric tone.

“MR SIDNEY PARKER!! UNHAND MY DAUGHTER THIS INSTANT!” Sidney immediately set her down, with perhaps a little too much haste, resulting in him having to steady her lest she land in a heap on the grass. “Mr Heywood. Sir, I....” Charlotte intervened, “Papa.” However, Mr Heywood was in full flow and was rapidly approaching Sidney with a face like thunder. “Do not “Papa” me Charlotte. I am not of a humour and as for you sir! What value is your word?” Suddenly, to the surprise of both men, Charlotte stepped in front of Sidney, as though guarding him with her life. Her father immediately stopped in his progress. His daughter’s face was the picture of courage and defiance. “Papa. You will listen to me.” “Will I now?” “Yes you will.” Even Sidney was nervous now. “Charlotte...” “Do not concern yourself Sidney. My father can be stubborn as a mule and hot headed with it. In that, you are not dissimilar.” The two men eyed each other with curiosity and consideration of her words. “Papa, Sidney has asked me to be his wife and what is more I have said yes. He loves me and I love him and we are to be married.” Sidney added, “With your consent of course sir”. There was silence for some time, as Mr Heywood calmed and shuffled on the spot where he stood considering this latest, not entirely unexpected, turn of events, “Hmm. So that’s the way of it is it?” Charlotte replied with a confidence born of youth and determination, “Yes it is.” “Why are you both soaking wet?” That response appeared to take her aback. “Beg your pardon Papa?” “You both look like a couple of drowned rats. Any particular reason, or is this the latest fashion for courting couples?” They both blushed ferociously. Sidney felt it was time he interjected, “Sir, Miss Hey....erm, Charlotte lost her footing and fell in the water. I felt it necessary to assist her safely back to the embankment....sir.” Charlotte gazed up at Sidney like he’d hung the moon and gone back to put up the stars. Just for her. “You felt that necessity did you?” “He was very gallant Papa.” “Gallant? In four feet of water!? “Papa!” “Well...it’s not enough he’s handsome, he must be brave too?! I’m not even going to ask why you’re not wearing your boots and stockings! “I was trying to reach the rocks over there for a better cast off.” “Enough.” “Please don’t tell Mama,” she whispered. She and her father exchanged smiles. She knew he was teasing now. “Oh Papa”. She embraced him and was certain in that moment that all would be well. Sidney was still looking awkward and embarrassed. Mr Heywood told his daughter to fetch her stockings and boots and put them on at once. She promptly dashed off to do as she was bid.

“It won’t be long before she no longer listens to me at all.” Mr Heywood looked sad. “You’ll be first in her affections. As it should be. I believe you already are.” “She is first in mine Mr Heywood and I believe she will always value your counsel. As will I”. “John. If we are to be father and son, then it’s John.” “Sidney”. The two men smiled and firmly shook hands. Apropos of nothing but suddenly desiring to reassure his future father in law, Sidney began a recitation of his financial assets and assured John Heywood that he could produce all necessary documentation and that his daughter would want for nothing. His reply was swift, “That’s all very well Sidney. You’re clearly a well propertied man. She will have a roof over her head, clothes on her back and food in her stomach and I’m glad of it. Just promise me you’ll love her and take care of her. That you’ll be kind to my girl. That I would put my first born child, my eldest daughter in the hands of a man that did not value her, who would not cherish her, that would inflict upon her any form of cruelty, would tear my very soul asunder.”

Sidney looked at him in earnest as he responded, “John, I do not pretend to be perfect. Far from it. I have made mistakes in my life and I live with those regrets. I have never felt that I belonged anywhere until I met Charlotte. Now I know where I belong. My home is by her side. My happiness lies with her. Love her? Cherish her? Sir, I would give up my life for your daughter.” The two men looked at each other earnestly and in that moment, John Heywood knew, with absolute certainty that Sidney Parker was the man worthy of his daughter’s hand. Charlotte joined them then, taking both their arms, “Well gentlemen. Shall we? I am in very great need of a warm fire and a hot drink!” They rested their hands on hers and shared contented smiles as they set off back to the house to share the momentous news.

To say that their engagement was greeted with excitement would be an understatement. Mrs Heywood embraced Sidney with such warmth that it caused him to lament the absence of his own late mother. She would have adored Charlotte, of that he was certain. He was to call her Margaret and they were to get along splendidly, she was already sure of it and was most insistent on knowing all his favourite foods. “Are you fond of a pork pie Sidney?” Charlotte stifled a giggle at his bemused expression. Composing himself he replied, “Why yes. Erm. I’m not averse to a good pie. I believe my brother Arthur to be something of an expert.” “Excellent! Any person who likes a pie will find a welcome in this house.” Charlotte smiled, “Mama makes the very best pies.” Mr Heywood added, “The very best in the county. That trophy over there? County Fair last year.” Sidney and Charlotte exchanged warm smiles. Suddenly she remembered, “Oh Lord! I didn’t catch any fish! I’m sorry Mama. Perhaps Adam may have more luck.” Her mother smiled, “Well. He certainly won’t be so distracted.” Charlotte blushed. “Never mind. I’ve roasted a bird.” As the younger children played and Charlotte and Alison helped with dinner, Sidney watched this glorious, chaotic, loving family scene. This was such a very different environment to any he had spent time in and yet he had never been more completely content in his life. This was to be his family too. He found himself delighted by the prospect.

After dinner, he and Mr Parker talked in his study for some time. They spoke of everything from Antigua to crop rotation, to cricket. They found they enjoyed each other’s company. Mr Heywood possessed a steadiness and a frank and honest manner which Sidney found refreshing. He felt it was right that he confide recent events to him in full. He’d discussed doing so with Charlotte. She was less enthusiastic. However, Sidney feared that, in time, her father might somehow learn of them from others and think him dishonest for concealing it. In the event, while Mr Heywood was deeply concerned at the pain Sidney’s actions had caused his daughter, he had some sympathy with the dilemma faced by a loving brother. Sidney begged his forgiveness, which was given in the understanding that Charlotte had already done so and that she would never again be subject to such grief at his hands. He gave his fulsome assurances on all counts.

Charlotte had been thoroughly reluctant to part with her fiancé when the time came for him to return to his room at the Inn. So downcast were they both in fact, that Mr & Mrs Heywood afforded them a moment alone for their parting. However, Mr Heywood could not resist keeping a watchful eye from the window. They were talking intently, holding each other’s hands tightly, as though their lives depended upon it and resting their foreheads against each other. They really were a handsome couple to behold. Mrs Heywood urged, “John! Come away from the window! Give them a moment.” Her distracted husband ruminated, “I feel cruel sending him off to the Inn but we’ve barely space enough as it is. He’d be sleeping in a chair at best. Besides, I’m not sure it’s proper to have them both under the same roof.” Mrs Heywood smiled knowingly and teased, “Indeed. Judging by the looks they give each other, you and I will be grandparents within a twelve month!” Mr Heywood bristled at his wife’s intimation, “Margaret!” “Oh really John. As though you haven’t noticed. Besides, how long was it after our own happy day that Charlotte came along? Almost nine months exactly. My father called you a ....” “Yes! Thank you! No need to repeat it.” “You want her to be happy don’t you? Happy as we are?” “Of course I do.” “Then come away from the window. Leave them to their billing and cooing and come and entertain your wife.” Mr Heywood smiled and moved away just as Sidney and Charlotte exchanged a goodnight kiss.

Charlotte and her sister were finally alone, Alison had screamed her delight, insisted that Sidney was the handsomest man ever seen and seized her sister. They proceeded to jump up and down with glee. Charlotte immediately informed her that she was to be maid of honour, which made her cry. Alison asked if she might make her wedding dress, which, in turn, made Charlotte cry and fulfilled an unspoken wish. The thought of parting pained them both but Charlotte reassured her that she would join them often in Sanditon and London. As they spoke by candle light, in their beds, under the blankets, they mused on the joys of love and of it’s sorrows. “Oh Charlotte! You will be a married woman!” “I know!” “Your Sidney will bring you joy. I’m sure if it.” “I know he will.” After a moment of silence Alison asked, “Are you afraid?” “Of what?” “Of...your duties...” Charlotte understood her meaning, “Not afraid as such. Nervous perhaps. I know he will be kind to me. I know he loves me. I worry that I might, disappoint him though.” “How so?” “I know him to be a man of the world. He is not...unfamiliar with these things, as I am.” “Gracious Charlotte!” “I know! Promise you won’t tell a soul.” “I promise”. “Swear.” “I swear!” “I saw him.” “Saw him?” “With no clothes on.” “Charlotte!” “Keep your voice down!” “How did you? Perhaps I shouldn’t ask?!” “He had gone for a swim at the coves in Sanditon. The men you see, swim without garments.” “They do?” “Yes. Anyway, I didn’t realise he was there until he...emerged from the water.” “Oh my!” “Indeed. I was mortified...though I must confess, I’ve scarce been able to get the sight of him out of my mind since!” Shyly Alison enquired, “Is he very fine?” Charlotte fell back on her bed and sighed, “Oh Alison. He is perfection.” Alison smiled, “You lucky thing!” They both collapsed in fits of giggles until Adam banged on the wall telling them to be quiet, which only made them both laugh louder.

So happy was he and excited to share his news, that Sidney struggled to sleep. He decided to write to his family and friends to convey his joy. His first correspondence was to Mary.

_Dearest Mary,_

_I trust this letter finds you and all the family in excellent health. I am delighted to say that it brings the very best of news from me. I arrived safely in Willingden this morning and immediately sought out my beloved. For Mary she is, at last, my own. Charlotte has consented to become my wife and we are engaged. I can not describe to you the extent of my emotions. I am so full of love for her I feel that my heart shall burst from my chest. I know not what others others may feel when they speak of love but this feeling is as nothing I have experienced before. She is perfection Mary and I am certain that I am the luckiest man that ever lived._

_I cannot thank you enough for your part in bringing this about. I could not love you more dear sister, than if you were my own flesh and blood. We are to be married at the beginning of June here in her parish. This will allow for the banns to be read and for the preparations ladies make on these occasions. I assume that involves dresses and the like. Charlotte has confided her hope that her sister Alison may make her gown for her. She has a great talent for such things, I am informed. In this I ask a favour of you. I wish Charlotte to have the very best silk and lace that money can buy. Whatever she would like, she is to have, at my expense. I have informed Mrs Heywood of this and have taken the liberty of giving her your address for correspondence on the matter. I would be grateful for your assistance. I am certain that my dearest Charlotte will also be corresponding with you very soon._

_I will return to Sanditon in a few days and thence to London to finalise some business matters and to prepare my affairs. Charlotte will come to Sanditon next month for a fortnight to see you all and to introduce you to her mother and sister Alison. They are such good people. I am truly blessed. This brings me to my final request, I wish to purchase one of the townhouses near the new promenade. I will finalise the financial matters with Tom but I would like you to choose the very best location. I want to surprise Charlotte and enjoy her delight in it. I confess I intend to spoil her rotten. Not that she can possibly be spoiled you understand._

_You are all to come here to Willingden for the wedding, of course. I am investigating suitable accommodations for you. The village inn is delightful but small and rustic, perhaps not entirely suitable for everyone in the party._

_I will trouble you no more for now. It is late as I write and I am to return to the Heywood’s in the morning. As I’m sure you can imagine I am most anxious to arrive as early as propriety will permit. I send my love to you all. That which I can spare from Charlotte. I shall see you again very soon._

_Your loving brother,_

_Sidney_

His communications to Babbers and Crowe were in the form of an express to both. To Babington it read, _“You are the finest friend a man ever had. She said yes! I shall see you in London. The Champagne will flow! My regards to Lady B. Your old friend, now happily engaged. Sidney.”_

To Crowe he said,_ “Crowe you are for Willingden in June. Where the ale is excellent and the women play cricket. I am to be married to Miss Heywood_. Raise a glass to us both. We will sink a few ships on my return. Your friend. Sidney.”

He returned to the Heywood residence first thing the following morning, in time to breakfast with Charlotte and the family. Over the next few days he was taught lambing and milking, spent time fishing and shooting and helped Charlotte to convince her father of the merits of modernising the tenants cottages along the lines which Mr Stringer had suggested. Sidney promised his help to oversee the purchase of materials. Mr Heywood was delighted to see that his future son in law, aside from being a fine gentleman, was not afraid to roll up his sleeves, quite literally and put in a good days work. Thankfully, he and Charlotte had also been afforded periods alone together during this time. An afternoon picnicking in her father’s orchard being a particularly cherished memory for both of them. They were fast becoming ever more adventurous in their intimacy and finding it increasingly difficult not to explore further than ever before. It was Sidney who drew back, leaving his fiancée somewhat confused and disconsolate, “What is it Sidney? Did I do something wrong? You must tell me. I know I’m naive but I want to learn, truly. I want to make you happy.” Sidney shook his head and smiled, “Oh Charlotte, my love. You do make me happy. Very happy. Indeed you do nothing wrong. My difficulty is that you do everything right. So right in fact, that I fear very much that if we continue to find ourselves thus, we are in very grave danger of...how can I put this?..preempting our vows.” Charlotte considered this for a second. He realised the exact moment she understood his meaning. Her eyes grew wide, “Oh! I see.” “Do you?” “Yes. I think so.” “We must restrain ourselves I think.” Charlotte nodded her agreement. “It won’t be too long now.” “No indeed. Six weeks, three days and depending on how long we must stay at the wedding breakfast, seven hours, give or take.” Charlotte laughed, “Not that you’re counting.” He gave her his most devastating smile as he cast his eyes the full length of her body. She knew that this was a look she was destined to struggle to resist. “Let’s just say, I take a healthy interest.” She decided to tease him, in a voice he’d never heard her use before. Her lips barely grazed his as she whispered, “I’m grateful for your attentions Mr Parker.” Dear God, she would be the death of him but at least he’d die happy.

Neither of them enjoyed the prospect of parting, even for a short time. Charlotte had cried so much, that Sidney had offered to stay another day but she accepted that he must go sooner or later and the sooner he left, the sooner he would return. Besides, he remarked, the deluge of congratulatory correspondence they had received required her attention. Alison pointed out that she would have dress fittings, not to mention the flowers and the cake to consider and they were for Sanditon in a fortnight too. Charlotte smiled but Sidney feared there was something else troubling her. On his final evening, as they sat together by the fire, he broached the subject. “My love? May I ask you a question?” “Of course you may!” “Are you so very upset by my departure, at least in some part, because you fear the possibility of a change in my feelings, or that it will be as it was before?” Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. Sidney felt devastated and furious with himself that he had produced this reluctance to trust in the woman he loved so. He stood and paced the room a little to calm himself. “Do not be cross with me. I want to trust you Sidney. I do, so very much but I’m so afraid. If I were to lose you again, now. I could not bear it!” She was sobbing now. It cut through him like a knife. He dropped to his knees before her, “My darling Charlotte. I am not cross with you but with myself. I swear on my life, I will never betray you or our precious love ever again. I adore you Charlotte Heywood. I loved you then and if it were possible to believe, I love you even more now. I never stopped. Not for a second. I will never forgive myself for the tears you’ve shed over me and I pledge to you that you will shed no more. With God’s will, I shall return in ten days. Ever more your own Sidney. For whatever I’m worth, I am yours Charlotte and I will be until my last breath.” “Your worth is beyond measure to me Sidney Parker.” With that, she threw herself into his arms and he held her tightly until she had calmed once again and her tears had dried. He left for Sanditon the next day.

Sidney had been right that she had a mountain of correspondence to reply to. In addition to Mary and Georgiana, she had written to Esther, Mr Stringer and Lady Susan. Much to her surprise in addition to letters of congratulations there were gifts. Lady Susan sent a beautiful tulle veil edged with lace. It was accompanied by a note confirming that she would be delighted to attend the wedding. She added that as she had not been so fortunate as to be blessed with her own daughter, she wished Charlotte to have her veil. She added that she could not imagine ever having had a child more deserving than her and she hoped her marriage to her, “dashing Mr Parker” would be as happy as her own had been. Charlotte was deeply moved by her words and by her kind gesture. She wrote to tell her that she would cherish it and wear it with the greatest honour and that she looked forward to seeing her in June. Esther sent a gift of a different nature entirely. When Charlotte open the box she gasped before closing the lid, opening it again, then trying to conceal it. It was a garment. Lace, muslin and sheer and it came all the way from Paris. Esther’s accompanying note was characteristically brief and to the point, “My dear Charlotte, I will miss your nuptials alas, due to my confinement. I am the size of at least one wing of Sanditon House at present. All thanks to Babington and his questionable charms. I have enclosed a gift for your trousseau. Trust me. Your Mr P will LOVE it. You’ll thank me later. Yours with excessively swollen ankles, Esther.” Charlotte giggled and promptly ensured that the item was packed away with the rest of her more modest honeymoon attire.

In the event, Sidney was back within six days. In truth, he’d been miserable after ten minutes away from her and the prospect of ten days was intolerable. On this occasion he brought his stallion and rode back to Sanditon with the carriage containing Charlotte, her mother Margaret and sister Alison. Charlotte spent much of the journey admiring him from the window of the carriage and blowing him kisses as he rode along side them, much to the amusement of the party. It felt strange to be back in Sanditon under such changed circumstances. Everything old felt new again. Much to her delight, Georgiana was there. Charlotte introduced her sister Alison and in no time, the two became fast friends, enjoying the delights of sea bathing and wedding planning. Mary and Mrs Heywood were equally occupied by the consideration of every detail of the coming celebrations.

Georgiana later confided in Charlotte that Sidney had recently located and offered employment to Otis, as an overseer in his London warehouse and the two had resumed a correspondence of which her guardian was fully aware. She did not intend to be hasty, or to give her trust too soon but her heart still belonged to him. Charlotte, perhaps more than anyone, understood her feelings and was pleased for her dear friend. She rewarded Sidney with a particularly passionate kiss, as they stole a moment on the beach later that day. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve it. She’d just grinned and teased, “I find I like your lips very much indeed Sidney Parker.” He was utterly speechless.

Charlotte had been curious about one request which Sidney had made of her before she left Willingden. He wanted her to bring her gold ball gown to Sanditon. She had obliged and on her second day in town, she realised his reasons. A Mr Carnegie arrived from London with the express purpose of sketching Charlotte in her gown, for a portrait Sidney had commissioned. He was also to paint miniatures of them both. Mr and Mrs Heywood were to gift the miniature of Charlotte to Sidney and Tom and Mary were to gift the miniature of Sidney, to Charlotte. Sidney had also purchased a locket for Charlotte which would also contain both images painted by hand, on enamel. She felt overwhelmed by such generosity from those she loved so dearly. It was later that day that Sidney had shown her exactly where her portrait would hang. It was by far the most magnificent of the newly constructed townhouses on the promenade overlooking the beach and the sea beyond. She had walked through the rooms as though in a daze. Sidney watched her with delight. “What do you think Miss Heywood? Does it not suit? Will it not do?” She knew he was teasing her, “It will do very well Mr Parker.” “It’s yours. Ours. Our new home.” She could scarce believe it. “Look up there”. He pointed to the top of the staircase, “That is where your portrait will hang. Every day I will come home and see you as you were the night I first knew I had fallen in love with you.” She embraced him and he kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek there. “You are too good to me Sidney.” “Impossible. I only fear that I can never be good enough, my love.”

Their remaining days in Sanditon were a whirlwind of luncheons, dinners and celebratory balls. Sidney had accompanied Charlotte to visit Mr Stringer and his new betrothed, Miss Lucy Cotterel, a young woman with a pretty, gentle countenance and a lively wit. As each man congratulated the other on their good fortune, they determined to put the past behind them and to make a fresh start, in friendship and a new mutual understanding. An invitation was extended to the couple to attend the Parker family’s upcoming celebration at the Sanditon Assembly Rooms and to their wedding in Willingden. Both were accepted. A less happy visit saw Charlotte and Sidney join Lady Denham, Lord Babington and Esther for a particularly excruciating luncheon in which Lady Denham was insistent that she had foreseen the match from the start and that Charlotte’s protestations that wealth was of no interest to her, were proven to be so much stuff and nonsense. Sidney was incensed. Babington and Esther were mortified. Fortunately the whole fiasco was ended when Esther “accidentally” tipped an entire platter of langoustines over her aunt’s décolletage. An unfortunate consequence of negotiating her larger frame she explained, while surreptitiously winking at Charlotte.

The ball in the Sanditon Assembly Rooms in honour of the bride and groom to be, was a splendid affair. Charlotte was radiant in a new raspberry pink silk taffeta gown. Coupled with tiny pink silk rose buds in her hair, it perfectly complimented her dark eyes and fresh complexion. Sidney was enraptured. He whispered to her, “You look heavenly, my dearest love. Positively delicious.” There was that look again. As though he might actually devour her. Perhaps one day she would comprehend from whence it came. She looked forward to the discovery. Their families mingled happily. Mr Heywood had joined them specially for the event and he and his wife were enjoying the rare experience of an evening together without their brood. Whether Mrs Heywood’s sister and her husband were equally content tending to them all back in Willingden, was another matter.

Crowe had arrived earlier that day and after complaining yet again about the quality of the inn, had nonetheless spent much of the day imbibing copiously while lamenting that, “matrimony was the ruination of damn fine drinking companions.” He had arrived at the ball listing at a dangerous angle, prompting Sidney to ask, “What the devil Crowe!? You smell like a barman’s apron. Is there any brandy left in Sanditon?” His reply was characteristically Crowe, “Pipe down man! I’m almost vertical. What more do you want?” At that moment Babbers approached, “God’s name Crowe! I never thought it was possible to get drunk from standing next to someone! Don’t put him near a naked flame whatever you do...oh, sorry Sidney...” “Quite alright. I’m not of a mood to take offence.” “Your intended is exceptionally beautiful this evening if I may be so bold?” “You may Babbers and she is.” Crowe enquired, “So, how is married life treating you Babs my old friend?” “Much as a seagull treats a statue.” Sidney laughed. “My dear Esther is finding her confinement most trying. Today she told me if I ever came near her again she’d down me with a deer rifle.” Sidney had to look down and bite his lip, he was trying so hard not to laugh. Crowe’s response was sanguine and timed to perfection. “Ah, ever the same sweet natured creature we’ve come to know and love then.” “I hear you’re honeymooning at chez Babs Parker?” “Just the wedding night Crowe. Then we travel on to London, then to the coast and off to France. Paris to be precise.” “I hope you’ve got them a decent mattress Babbers.” “Crowe. Let me clarify my earlier statement. I don’t want to take offence but I will.” “I’m sporting with you man. Besides, I’m most put out that you chose your brother Arthur as your best man over me.” “Firstly, he’s my brother, secondly I had one or two concerns.” “Such as?” “Well. Your ability to remember the date, the time, the venue, the ring, who you are, how to stand upright, that sort of thing.” Crowe considered this for a moment, then conceded, “Fair enough”.

Soon the dancing had begun and Arthur, Georgiana and Alison, threw themselves into it with customary enthusiasm. Sidney would happily have danced all night with Charlotte but etiquette dictated that he ensure a variety of partners including Mrs Heywood, Georgiana, Alison and Mary. While Charlotte danced with her father, Tom, Arthur and Babington. She still managed to dance the first, the last and three others with him. One of which was a waltz. It was of such intimacy and intensity that Mary and Margaret Heywood exchanged knowing glances before Mary remarked to her, “I think it may be wise to start knitting now!” Both women laughed. Sidney parted momentarily from Charlotte at the end of the dance, to be greeted by Crowe, “Parker, you scoundrel. That was absolute filth. Now that’s what I call entertainment.” Sidney couldn’t muster the will to reprimand him and in truth, he didn’t entirely disagree. James Stringer joined them and Sidney introduced him to Crowe, “Crowe, this is Mr James Stringer, Tom’s foreman. A fine fellow. Very talented.” “Ah yes. I remember you. Bloody good cricketer as I recall. You were one of the chaps in the ehhh...in the...” “The boat race Crowe. The Regatta”. “Ah yes. Unfortunately old Babbers and I were harried a’midships by a couple of louts. Rotten cheats.” “That would be the schoolmaster and the Verger sir.” Sidney put his hand over his face. “Well Mr Singer...” “Stringer”. “Yes indeed. Care for a libation?” “I won’t, thank you sir. It’s time I rejoined my intended.” “Bloody Hell! Not another one! Is there something in the water in this place?” Sidney smiled and patted him on his shoulder, “Well, as you never touch the stuff Crowe, you have absolutely nothing to fear.”

Performing his duties as master of ceremonies, Tom Parker took great delight in announcing the evening’s piece de resistance, a spectacular firework display on the beach. Charlotte was thrilled and Sidney took the opportunity to hold her as tightly as propriety would permit, in the interests of ensuring her warmth of course, as he told Mr Heywood unconvincingly. Soon, such concerns would no longer be relevant. She would be his wife and he, her husband. He could scare believe it. As she looked up into his eyes he whispered “I love you.” She smiled and whispered back, “I love you too.” She rested her head against his chest as she continued to look up to the sky, illuminated with explosions of light. This was were he belonged. Where they both belonged. This was what it felt like, to finally find your way home.

_“June 6th in the parish of Willingden St Mary, Mr Sidney Parker Esq, son of the late Mr & Mrs Thomas Parker Esq, of Bedford Place, London and Oakham Court, Oxfordshire, to Miss Charlotte Heywood, beloved daughter of Mr and Mrs John Heywood Esq, of Heywood Manor, Willingden.”_

Thus read the announcement that they were finally husband and wife. Such formal words to reflect such infinite joy. The sun had shone brightly upon the gathering of family and friends. Sidney had awoken early and to his astonishment started smiling almost immediately and hadn’t stopped since. To the point where his cheek bones ached. It was the best feeling in the world. His excitement and anticipation was such that he had eaten little breakfast. Arthur however, more than made up for any deficiencies by polishing off copious amounts of hot buttered toast and two of Mrs Heywood’s large pork pies. She had promised him she would make at least a dozen for him to take back to Sanditon. Tom, Mary, and Diana, each embraced Sidney and wished him every happiness, before they set off for the church, to await his arrival and that of the bride. He and Tom had settled their differences at Charlotte’s insistence but Sidney still felt wary of his brother. A caution which was perhaps wise.

Sidney was resplendent in a dark navy top coat and a waistcoat of the palest blue, to match the shade of gown to be worn by the maid of honour Alison and the assortment of little bridesmaids. He had a blue cornflower in his lapel. Henry had a perfect version of his Uncle’s outfit, in miniature. He was to be put in charge of the large basket of rose petal confetti, which he was clutching tightly. Sidney took a final look in the long mirror in his room, at the property he’d rented for the duration of the festivities to accommodate his family. He picked up his hat and gloves and went downstairs where Arthur was waiting, “You look very splendid indeed dear brother. A truly fine groom if ever there was.” “Thank you.” “I am very proud of you Sidney. You have proven yourself to be a good man and richly deserving of your love. I cannot imagine a finer sister than Charlotte. I promise you, we shall all love our newest Parker. Indeed it’s already done.” “I cannot believe my good fortune Arthur.” “Take my advice. Accept it, enjoy it. Celebrate it. Remain worthy of it Sidney. That is all that’s required of you. Now, let’s get you married. I’ve heard Mrs H has made a rather splendid trifle.” Sidney rolled his eyes but smiled warmly as they left.

Charlotte could still scarce believe she had been gifted such happiness. The morning of her wedding she had been well and truly pampered and preened. The night before her dear Mama had taken her aside for a conversation she suspected might happen. Margaret Heywood wanted to reassure her that she should have no fear of “the physical intimacy” which lay ahead. Too much nonsense, she assured her, was often spoken, suggesting that such things must be endured or were a “duty” or a “chore”. Where there was love and compatibility, it was all to be greatly enjoyed. It may seem strange at first and a little uncomfortable but with time and knowledge, mutual affection and trust, there was considerable pleasure to be had from intimacy. She knew that Sidney would be a caring husband and patient with her and she should endeavour to overcome her natural shyness and trust him. There should be no embarrassment or shame. Charlotte had listened attentively but, in truth, by this point, she was infinitely more excited than she was scared. Sidney had sent her yet another pre-wedding gift, a beautiful diamond and ruby necklace and earrings. It took her breath away. His note read, “My love, you are my life. Till tomorrow, when we will become one. Ever your own. Sidney xxx” For Charlotte tomorrow could not come soon enough. When it dawned, she was more than ready to become Mrs Sidney Parker.

She had been a vision walking towards him. Alison had made her dress with such love and Charlotte wore it with such exquisite beauty, that it took his breath away. She carried a bouquet of roses and peonies, the scent of which filled the church. An arbour of herbs and flowers for good luck, surrounded the door. Her mother had given her an elaborate silver comb for her hair and tiny pins, all of which were studded with pearls. Her hair was up, with tendrils softly falling against her face. Her father led her towards her groom with pride. They didn’t take their eyes off each other from the moment they first connected and they said their vows so very tenderly and sincerely that all who witnessed it were moved. Sidney placed the ring on her finger and as their hands were joined, they were pronounced man and wife. The register signed, they emerged from the church the happiest of couples. As the bells rang out, they were showered with rose petals. Their kiss was as beautiful and tender as it was passionate and promising. Amid shouts of congratulations they made their way to their carriage and were showered once again, this time with rice, by the Heywood tenant farmers and their families. When a voice shouted, “Congratulations Miss Charlotte!” Sidney corrected them with laughter, “That’s Mrs Parker!” To hear it for the first time and from him, gave her an unimaginable thrill.

After returning to Heywood Manor for the outdoor celebrations, they feasted, drank champagne, danced and received the affectionate good wishes of their family and friends. They seldom left each other’s side for longer than the requirements of custom or etiquette. When Sidney returned from dancing a reel with his sister Diana, he immediately went to his new wife, promptly took her hand and linked her arm in his, with a satisfied grin. Much to the delight of Lady Susan who was complimenting Charlotte on her gown as he arrived. “Is my wife not the most beautiful bride that ever was Lady Susan?” Lady Susan smiled delightedly, while Charlotte blushed, “Indeed Mr Parker. Mrs Parker is in many ways, quite exceptional. I must say I do so enjoy a country wedding, don’t you?” Sidney smiled broadly as he admired his wife and the surrounding scene, “I do. I find it is all very much to my taste.”

Charlotte Parker awoke the following morning to sunlight bathing her skin and to the comforting weight of her husband’s arm lying across her stomach. He was face down on the pillow beside her. She considered how contented he looked in his sleep. Such a contrast to the passion and intensity of the night before. His hair was disheveled and there was a flush on his cheeks. It suited him well she thought. She suspected there was one on her own. She contemplated how many glorious secrets she now understood. She finally knew what prompted that look of hunger she’d so often seen in his eyes. She now fully comprehended the origins of the fire he had always ignited within her. She knew the heat of his touch on her skin. The pleasure of undressing him and being undressed. Esther had been quite right she reflected, the little garment she’d gifted her, had been a triumph. Her mother had been right about the joys he could bring and yet she suspected there were many more exquisite pleasures to be had. He had been so gentle, so loving, so perfect. She could not love him more if she tried. It was as she contemplated this thought that she noticed he had opened his eyes. He gave her a drowsy smile. His voice was thick with sleep, “Good morning Mrs Parker.” “Good morning Mr Parker.” “Are you quite well this morning my love?” “Yes indeed. I find I am in excellent spirits”. He stretched and Charlotte watched as every muscle on his back contracted. This time, she did not have to look away. She could partake and luxuriate. She felt the urge to touch him again, to understand the wonder that was this magnificent man. Her man. Her husband. Her darling Sidney. He ran his finger down her nose before kissing her. “You are entirely too beautiful wife.” “I thought you once said I wasn’t “too” anything”, she giggled. “This is my one exception.” “...and what pray should I do about this exception?” His hands had begun another of his delicious explorations, “I really think you should leave that for me to consider.”

Four days later they were in London. They were to leave for Paris the following day. He had intended the destination to be a surprise but to Charlotte’s delight, she discovered she could illicit his secrets by tickling him. That Sidney Parker could laugh until he cried for mercy, was something she would never tire of. She also found that she now possessed other ways to render him utterly helpless and she enjoyed them greatly. Sidney had tempted Charlotte to bathe with him. She now found that, just as he could be led by her, her husband could also tempt her to a great many things. They lay together in the copper bath, in the slowly cooling water. Neither were inclined to get out. He was holding her hand in his, watching the light glint off her gold wedding ring. She turned her head from where it rested on his chest, to look back at him, “Sidney, promise me we’ll always be like this. We’ll always feel like this. That it will never change.” “I promise you, Charlotte Parker, this feeling, this love, it is ours, forever. It will never go away.”

The End....or The Beginning.....

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
